Then he said, “Would you have another woman, Andubatil, or do two serve you sufficiently?”
“Quite sufficiently, Lord Calandola!”
“Good. Good. I would not have you suffer for the lack. You are most valuable to me, Andubatil, you are cherished deeply by me. When we march on São Paulo de Loanda, you will lead the column beside me, and I would see your hair gleaming like a beacon in the hot sunlight. Is your musket in good repair?”
“Aye, that it is.”
“And with powder, with shot? I gave orders that the weapons of those Portugals were to be given unto you.”
“That has been done,” I said. “I have enough powder now for all my uses, and great store of ammunition.”
“Good.”
“And when, Lord Calandola, does the march begin?”
“In four days’ time, I think. Or five. I must consult with Kakula-banga, whether it be four days or five, and have him read the omens.”
He turned, and took my hand in his, and squeezed it in that ferocious way of his, that conveyed his love; and once more the Imbe-Jaqqa’s eyes met mine and had my measure; and then he strode away.
I stood looking toward him, wondering. What power was it he had, that was so compelling over me? Not just his size, for there are many big men that are but oafs, and not just his voice, and not his visage alone, nor the vision that possessed him, of world dominion and destruction; but it was all of those at once, I suppose, that drew into one thick cable that could bind entire nations. Certainly he did bind me, though I have never otherwise felt myself to be a man easily led; this Calandola did ever impress his will into me in a way most mysterious, and reduce me to something far less than my true self, so that I moved often not of my own accord but in the general frenzy and thrust of a larger and irresistible mass. And so I give my thanks to God Almighty that He made Calandola an African, and kept him far from our shores. But one day, I do fear, a man of that sort will arise closer to home, and take all the civilized world in his grip and do the Devil’s own work with it, and it will go hard for us. May God preserve us from the coming of that man’s day.
When Calandola was gone from me, Dona Teresa returned.
“That is Satan himself,” she said.
“Perhaps. Or Satan’s own son.”
“Why do you not slay him while he stands so comradely beside you, and spare the world from this monster?”
“I would not live an hour, an’ I do any such thing,” said I. “And I think he is less monstrous than he chooses to appear.”
“You have become a fool, Andres.”
“Have I, then?”
“You defend him ever, him that is indefensible. Which marks you as a fool, and a gull.”
I shook my head. “Beyond doubt he has a sway on me, yes. But I think I see him more exactly than most. It is easy to say, He is a monster, He is a monster, and in some ways indeed he makes himself monstrous. It takes a keener perception to find the philosophy beneath the frightsome surface.”
“Philosophy!” cried she most scornfully. “Aye, I know his philosophy. Kill and eat, kill and eat, carve and gorge, carve and gorge! It is a wondrous thoughtful philosophy! Have you come to like the flavor of man-meat, Andres?”
“You are wife indeed, if you beshrew me this way.”
“I seek only to know your soul. Are you yet a Christian? Or do you give yourself over fully to these cannibal revels?”
“Let me be, Teresa,” I said wearily.
“You have eaten of the forbidden flesh, have you not?”
“By whom forbidden?” I asked.
“By the mouth of God and the laws of man,” said she. “But you have dined of it. That I know. And you will again, and the love of its savor does possess you, and make you mad.”
“Nay, Teresa, I am no madman at all, but only a poor lost sailor, who longs for his home.”
“You delude yourself.”
“It is so. I ship myself under whatever flag I must, until the day I am free of Africa.”
“So you have been saying. But I think a deeper sea-change has come upon you, and your talk of homegoing is now mere talk, that you repeat because you have long repeated it, which has lost its urgency for you some years back.”
“That is not so,” said I, but I did not say it with conviction.
With much fire she said, “That man is no man, but a devil, is he not? And you are ensorcelled by him, I think, and transformed into something accursed. And you do not see it, but believe you are only pretending to serve him, while biding your time. Or else you lie to yourself as well as to me.” She glared into my eyes, and I compelled myself not to flinch. “Of what were you and he talking, I ask you, pray?”
I said, “Of his brother Kinguri: for I have caused a rift between them. And we talked also of the war that Calandola would make against all the world, and his hopes for conducting it. He dreams of invading Europe.”
“Which is madness.”
“So I would not deny. He will never achieve that. But soon will he march against São Paulo de Loanda, at any rate.”
She grasped my arm. “How soon?”
“I cannot say.”
“So you told me before. But that was because you did not know. Now you know. How soon, Andres?”
I drew deep my breath. “Four days. Or maybe five. The time depends on the horoscopes his witches cast.”
“We must send warning!”
“We will do nothing of the sort,” said I bluntly.
“It is monstrous, that he would burst into the city. Fie, Andres, let us escape this place, and carry the word to the governor, before everyone is slaughtered!”
“There is no escape from here. They would have after us, and we would be in the kettles by nightfall of the day we are caught.”
“But we cannot stand idly by, and let the city be destroyed,” she said.
“We will.”
“This war must not be!”
“I am not convinced of that,” said I. “I think it might be well, if São Paulo de Loanda perished.”
“What, Andres? Now comes forth the truth! You are wholly of them!”
“I have my reasons for what I say.”
“Reasons of madness!”
“I have no cause to love the Portugals. What love did they ever show me, except Barbosa, that is dead? And Don João, who spoke sweet of one side of his mouth, and traitored me with the other? And you, Dona Teresa, who did the same?”
“I have had forgiveness for that.”
“Aye, so you have. But the others? Those who chained me, those who beat me, those who mocked me, those who kept me from my home for all these years? Am I Jesus, that I should embrace them, and ask God to spare them?”
“You need not destroy them, though.”
“Ah, but perhaps I welcome such a vengeance.”
She stared long at me. “You are not a man in whom such hatred is natural. Of that am I certain.”
“Perhaps I have changed, Teresa.”
“Then it is a mighty change indeed, I think. Come, Andres, forget this wrath, and join with me to save the city. We must do something! I will devise a way.”
“I remind you, Dona Teresa, that I have pledged myself for your good behavior. Whatever you do, it will bring down catastrophe upon me. Will you betray me a second time?”
“The city, Andres, think of the city!”