A Preposterous Plight Read online

  “Well, well,” said Antonio Dias Caldas, grinning. “If it isn’t Gerard van Oost’s meddling slave.”

  #

  Gagged and bound to a tree, Oludara considered his bleak situation. Around him, Antonio’s men scampered amid the jumble of trees and brush, setting up camp as best they could. The group, much reduced since their encounters with Magwhar and the Dry Bodies, now consisted of some twenty riflemen and a dozen native slaves.

  Diogo approached Oludara with a water gourd in one hand and knelt beside him. He loosened the gag and offered Oludara a sip of water. Oludara was quite pleased to see Diogo, an honest man who had helped him and Gerard in the past, even though doing so went against the wishes of his master Antonio.

  “It is good to see you again,” said Oludara.

  “Good to see you as well,” said Diogo. “Although I suppose the circumstances could be better. I find you all too often bound in ropes or iron when we meet.”

  “True enough. Perhaps I’ll try a more conventional outfit at our next encounter. But I must ask you something. We encountered a beast with an enormous mouth, one of your bannermen called it Magwhar. Do you know of it?”

  Diogo nodded.

  “That beast was the cause of my flight,” said Oludara. “It slew many of your companions.”

  “I know,” said Diogo. “Two men escaped and returned to us shortly before you appeared. They’re off recovering from the fight.”

  “Did they mention it was Gerard and I who intervened and allowed them to escape?”

  “They left that part out,” Diogo replied with a wry smile. “I doubt it would sit well with Antonio in any case. Truth is, when your trail passed into Wytaka land, Antonio gave you both up for dead and called off the search. Even in his greatest rage, he’s too smart to venture into that territory. Instead, he decided to go after Magwhar. He offered a reward of a fifty silver tostões to anyone who can bring it down; that’s more than most of these men see in a year. Now that he’s captured you, however, his attention has returned to other matters.”

  “Gerard?” asked Oludara.

  “The one and only.”

  “Why does he hate Gerard so? Just because he is a Protestant?”

  “No.” Diogo sighed and shook his head. “That’s what he tells everyone, but he doesn’t care about that. Truth is, he sees Gerard as a threat.”

  “Really?”

  “Antonio is astute. He recognized Gerard’s potential the moment he met him. Antonio worked his way from poverty to become the greatest bannerman in Brazil. He wasn’t about to let some stranger come and take that away from him. That’s why he worked so hard to have Gerard sent away, and why he hunts him now with such fervor.”

  Oludara looked to where Antonio lay in a hammock, rocking leisurely back and forth. “He knows his enemy is near, yet he just lies there.”

  “Of course,” said Diogo. “Why risk going into Wytaka territory to look for Gerard, when Antonio knows he’ll come after you eventually?”

  “No doubt. My people say: ‘Once the tree falls, you can reach the branches.’ My presence here puts Gerard in great danger; he will not abandon me. Where is Tinga? He and I became friends when I travelled with you last. He could warn Gerard.”

  “Antonio sent him scouting days ago. There’s no way to know when he’ll return.”

  “It’s a shame. Tinga is a good man, and competent.”

  “In any case,” said Diogo, putting Oludara’s gag firmly back in place, “I’ll do what I can. But for now, it’s better to keep our conversation short and not raise suspicion.”

  Diogo walked off to oversee the men setting up camp. Oludara, with no idea what to do, decided to rest and conserve his strength. He settled himself as best he could within his bindings. Just before he closed his eyes, however, he spotted movement to one side. He looked over and saw a snake slithering toward him.

  This snake he did recognize. The Tupinambá called it surucucu, and its bite was fatal. He struggled to pull away, but his bonds held firm. When he attempted to call out, the gag muffled his shouts.

  He fought with all his might to free even a hand, but made no progress. He then tried keeping as still as possible. The snake, however, did not deviate. It flicked its tongue as it slithered ever closer, never taking its gaze from Oludara. Oludara could do nothing but clench his muscles in expectation as the snake reared up to strike.

  The surucucu’s head shot forward at blinding speed, but just as quickly slammed to the ground. Oludara, wide-eyed, saw that a rapier had pierced it just behind the eyes and pinned it to the ground, dead. Still trembling from fear and disbelief, he led his gaze up the rapier’s blade to stare into the smiling eyes of Antonio Dias Caldas.

  Antonio jerked back the rapier, tearing it out so cleanly that the snake’s head didn’t even move. He pulled a rag from under his doublet and cleaned the tip.

  “Don’t think I did that out of kindness,” said Antonio. “I’ll spit you through the eyes just the same, once I’m done with Gerard.”

  Antonio sheathed his rapier and returned to the hammock, where he resumed his gentle rocking as if nothing had happened.

  Oludara, calm even in the face of the African dragon, had felt true panic for one of the first times in his life. It took him many deep breaths to regain his nerves. Gerard had studied swordplay under European masters, but Oludara had never seen him do anything close to spearing a serpent in mid-strike. Oludara no longer knew which threat was the greatest: the Wytaka, Magwhar, or Antonio. Oludara had taken the man too lightly, and made a silent prayer to Olorun that Gerard would not do the same.

  #

  It had taken most of an hour for Oludara to calm down enough to sleep, only to be awoken by the sound of gunfire. The bannermen jumped to attention and grabbed their weapons.

  Antonio leapt from his hammock. “That was Gerard’s gun,” he said, “I’d know that sound anywhere.” He pointed to a group of men. “Francisco, Luis, Pedro, Mateus, you come with me. Diogo, guard the camp.”

  Antonio charged off with the group and Diogo chanced a glance at Oludara before shouting to the remaining bannermen, “You heard him! Spread out, guard the perimeter! I don’t want Gerard sneaking up on us. I’ll check on the prisoner.”

  As the men took up their positions, Oludara could see that Diogo had dispersed them cleverly. Gerard would have his chance to slip through. Once the camp had cleared out, Diogo knelt beside Oludara. Shortly after, Oludara could feel his bonds loosening.

  “I have a feeling your friend is on his way,” said Diogo.

  The gag still in his mouth, Oludara could only nod in response. Then he caught a glimpse of movement in some bushes and Gerard peeked his head into view. Oludara grunted and pointed with his chin. Diogo turned and spotted Gerard, then motioned for him to keep down. Gerard complied.

  Diogo nudged a rock toward Oludara with his foot.

  “You’ll have to strike me down,” he said. “Hard enough to bruise, but not to break, if you don’t mind. And don’t forget your dagger; it’s tucked into my belt.”

  Oludara eyed the dagger and nodded, just as his bonds gave way. He grasped the rock and hit Diogo solidly on the temple, spinning him around. He pulled his knife from Diogo’s belt and ran in Gerard’s direction.

  “The prisoner,” Diogo groaned out, softly enough that only the closest of the men would hear.

  Two perimeter guards, however, had spotted Oludara’s movement and closed in on him quickly, blocking his path with harquebuses raised in challenge. They failed to see Gerard, however, who jerked into motion behind them.

  In an attempt to hold the men’s attention, Oludara raised his arms and said, “Don’t shoot!” Moments later, Gerard came running from behind with a log. He leveled it and knocked both men down. Oludara leapt over them and ran.

  As he and Gerard fled side by side into the woods, he chanced a glance back to see two other men running at them and shouting. When they reached the middle of the camp, however, Diogo lurched into them
and brought all three down in a heap. Oludara could just make out his yelling: “You imbeciles! Can’t you run around me and not over me?”

  Oludara grinned and returned his attention to their escape.

  #

  Gerard, exhausted, threw himself on the ground beside Oludara, who had collapsed moments before.

  “Thank you, Gerard,” Oludara said between staggered breaths. “How did you make the shot go off from so far away?”

  “I used a counterweight and running water—set a drip in a pan to fill up and pull the trigger. Wasn’t easy, but it worked.

  “Problem is, that trick cost me my harquebus, the best gun I’ve ever had. It’s a dear loss, but I’d trade a thousand of them for your life.”

  Oludara grinned in response.

  “Even so,” continued Gerard, “it would never have worked without Diogo’s help. Too many remained in camp for me to free your bonds and get away.”

  “It is true,” said Oludara. “My people say, ‘Wherever a man dwells, his character goes with him.’ Diogo has remained a good man, even among Antonio’s scoundrels, and we are lucky to count him as an ally.”

  Oludara’s expression turned serious. “Gerard, we need to talk about Antonio.”

  “It can wait,” said Gerard. “Rest here, and I’ll get you some water. We should refresh ourselves and be on our way. We’ll have time for stories soon enough.”

  “You’re right. For that long, at least, it can wait. And a bit of water will soothe my voice for the tale.”

  Oludara lay on the ground and Gerard took up his pack and set out. After a half-hour of roaming, he heard the sound of running water and followed it to a brook: its water chilled and crystalline. He took a water skin from his pack and knelt to fill it when a splashing sound upstream alerted him. He looked up to see a disheartening sight: Magwhar, no more than fifty paces away, had leapt into the stream for a drink.

  Gerard, trying to remain inconspicuous, reached slowly for his rapier. He had it halfway unsheathed when a rustling sound on the opposite side of the river caused Magwhar to look up. The creature, scanning around, spotted Gerard. It squinted its eyes in recognition before howling and leaping to the bank.

  As the beast bounded toward him, Gerard whipped out his rapier and readied it for impact. Just before Magwhar’s final lunge, however, arrows whistled over from the other side of the river. Two of them flew into the creature’s howling mouth and it screamed in rage. Eight of the long-haired Wytaka warriors emerged from the trees. Seven of them carried bows while one—the tallest and strongest of the group—wielded a sharpened stone axe.

  Magwhar changed direction and headed towards them, lurching through the water as best it could. The tallest warrior signaled for the others to hold position and rushed forward alone, engaging the creature as it emerged on the riverbank. Magwhar lunged for him but he slipped under its swiping claws and swung the axe toward its mouth in an underhand motion. His blow shattered both the axe and a couple of Magwhar’s teeth.

  The creature screeched and clutched its mouth, then turned and—legs pumping so hard it resembled a jester’s farce—ran into the cover of the forest.

  Gerard, dumbfounded by the warrior’s fearless attack, could only stand and watch as the man and his companions crossed the river in his direction. As they approached, Gerard sheathed his rapier and held up his hands in greeting.

  “Thank you, great warrior,” he said in Tupi, hoping the man might understand the tongue. “I am called Gerard van Oost.”

  The warrior showed no sign of recognition. He sneered at Gerard and shouted one word, “Kandl’o!”, backhanding Gerard for emphasis. The powerful slap sent him sprawling. Gerard couldn’t believe the man’s strength.

  The warrior turned and said something to the others. Two of them pulled Gerard to his feet and two others prodded him with their bows, leading him back across the river and away from Oludara.

  #

  The Wytaka marched Gerard for most of the day before emerging from the woods into an open, marshy area. The sunlight gave Gerard some small comfort after spending so much time in the confines of the forest.

  The Wytaka village stood in the middle of the marsh, and Gerard judged that the chance of him sneaking out or Oludara sneaking in was close to none: the marsh afforded ample view in every direction.

  The village could not be more different from those of the Tupinambá that Gerard had come to know so well. Instead of massive longhouses, the Wytaka used tiny huts built on stilts that kept them above water. Each hut contained a single entrance, no more than three feet high.

  When Gerard reached the village with his warrior escort, the men called out and dozens of families crawled from the huts to look at him. Like the Tupinambá, they wore no clothing, at least in the conventional sense. Some wore feather decorations or had painted themselves with red dye from the genipapo trees, although the patterns differed from any he had seen. Many shouted at Gerard, but he couldn’t understand a single word.

  One man grabbed Gerard’s hat and put it on, causing a great commotion as others gathered around and pointed. Another man pulled Gerard’s sword from its sheath and stabbed at an imaginary foe, attracting a group of laughing, clapping children. Many of them danced and threw themselves to the ground, pretending to faint at the sight of the sword.

  A group of women pulled off Gerard’s pack and upended it, emptying its contents upon the ground. One of the women unfurled the banner and others pointed and laughed at Gerard’s drawing of the elephant and macaw.

  “It just a rough idea,” he said.

  Several of the natives turned and shouted “Kandl’o!” at him. Like everything else they said, Gerard had no idea what it meant, but decided it best to keep his mouth shut for the time being.

  When the tall Wytaka who had faced Magwhar came strutting into their midst, the other natives deferred to him. Gerard deduced he must be the chief. The chief watched in silence for a while, but when the others grew tired of taunting Gerard and playing with his things, he said something and pointed to a nearby woman. He then turned and walked off.

  A group of warriors grabbed Gerard and hauled him toward one of the huts, then bent him over and shoved him through the tiny opening. The woman whom the chief had indicated crawled in after. After that, the men dispersed, leaving the two of them alone.

  Gerard looked around the hut, but the only furnishings were a woven mat and a few containers. He looked to the woman, who sat staring at him. She was young, probably about seventeen, with high cheekbones, sunken eyes, and a straight nose.

  “I know how this works,” said Gerard. “I’ve heard the stories. First, I’m offered a woman to couple with.”

  The woman didn’t appear to understand a word he said, but he blushed anyway.

  “But don’t think it’s going to work.” He waved a finger at her for emphasis. “I spent almost a year with the Tupinambá, and never once engaged in carnal pleasure. And don’t think they didn’t offer. I swear I shall remain celibate until marriage.”

  The woman said “Kandl’o!” then lay down and spread her naked legs open. Gerard gasped and looked away. After a few minutes, when it became apparent he would do nothing, the woman made an angry clacking sound and rolled into one corner to sleep. Another woman brought in a wooden tray and set it on the floor. She looked quizzically back and forth between Gerard and the woman.

  Gerard examined the tray to find a cooked piece of meat—venison from the look of it—some honey, and a dozen tiny, yellow fruits he’d never seen before.

  “I know this trick as well,” he said. “You’re here to make sure I get fattened up for your cannibalistic feast. The bigger the better, right?”

  Gerard noticed the Wytaka woman staring at his belly. Gerard, robust even by European standards, was already much wider—and he feared, meatier—than any of the natives. He gulped.

  “Maybe that won’t take so long after all,” he groaned. “I hope Oludara thinks of something quick.”

 
#

  Oludara awoke with a start. Without meaning to, he’d fallen asleep when Gerard set off in search of water. He looked around but noticed no sign of his companion. From the fading light, he knew that hours had passed.

  Worried, but not panicked enough to call out and alert their enemies, Oludara set out in search of Gerard. It didn’t take him long to find his friend’s trail, or to follow it to a stream. At the water’s muddy edge, he startled to find Gerard’s tracks surrounded by those of at least a half-dozen sets of bare feet. The bare feet reminded him of the Wytaka and he became truly worried for his friend’s safety. The tracks seemed to come from and return to the stream, so Oludara crossed it.

  What he found on the other side of the river bothered him even more. Signs of battle lay everywhere: blood, arrows, a shattered axe, and the remains of two huge teeth. Oludara’s heart sank, imagining his companion crushed by Magwhar, or worse. He rushed around, looking for any sign of escape, until, greatly relieved, he discovered Gerard’s boot prints heading away, surrounded yet again by tracks made from bare feet. The trail proved difficult to follow in the woods, and he lost it after only half a league.

  For the next two days, Oludara wandered the woods looking for signs, while at the same time trying to avoid calling attention to himself. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a single clue to guide him, and his worry grew with every passing moment. At the edge of breakdown, trembling in despair, he squeezed himself into the hollow of a tree and hid there to think. After several minutes of deep breathing, when he almost felt he had regained enough calm to continue his search, a strident voice cried out: “How did you ever make it this far into Wytaka land?”

  Oludara first felt a pain in his chest, followed by one in his head when he jumped and struck it within the tree. Sacy-Perey stood just outside the tree, a devilish smile upon his face.

  When the pains subsided, Oludara said, “Be quiet, Sacy! I’ve spent days sneaking through this cursed forest. The enemy could be hiding anywhere.”

  “Well, I did warn you not to pass through here.”

  “I had no choice. The Wytaka captured Gerard and I must find him.”