It took mere moments for Oludara to come up with an idea. “We should send someone to tell Antonio of a beast besieging a town—a chance for him to win great glory.”
“It’s a good idea in theory,” replied Gerard, “but whom would he believe? I can’t go to him; he’d spit me and boil me like a piece of meat.”
“They know of me,” said Piraju, “and that I’ve been warning tribes of their coming. And any Tupinambá would be suspect.”
“Then that leaves only one option,” said Oludara. “I must go.”
“But Antonio saw you that day we met in Salvador,” said Gerard. “He’ll recognize you.”
Oludara smirked at the suggestion. “Gerard, you are so delightfully sincere; it is a pleasure to know a man such as you exists in this world. Antonio didn’t spare me a glance that day. To him, slaves are not people, only property. He would not recognize one African from another.”
“Diogo, however, remains his second-in-command. He won’t be so easily fooled.”
“I will disguise myself. It will be enough.”
“Where will our feigned attack occur?”
“That is an important question. He came from Salvador, so any message from there will appear suspect. Yet it must be somewhere not too far away.”
“Ilhéus, then,” said Gerard. “It’s not too far, but he’ll have to cut his way through a forest to get there. Even at his fastest, it will take Antonio five days to reach there and five to return. That should give the tribe enough time.”
“An excellent plan!” said Piraju. He clasped Gerard’s shoulders. “How strange is destiny, Gerard van Oost. How would I know that a Dutchman I met in Salvador would one day save my life in the midst of the Tupinambá? Thank you so much. The story of how you came to live among this tribe and speak their language must be amazing, but I haven’t the time to stay and hear it.”
“You can’t leave without at least allowing me to introduce my friend,” said Gerard. “Piraju, this is Oludara. It was for his cause that I sought the aid of Sacy-Perey in Salvador.”
Oludara offered a firm handshake. “Greetings and good health,” he said.
“It is indeed a pleasure to meet you, Oludara,” said Piraju. “Your plan will give me time to warn other tribes, saving more lives than you can imagine.”
“I am glad to hear it.”
“I must go now, and warn the others.”
“Good luck,” said Gerard.
As Piraju strode away, Oludara said, “I am impressed, Gerard. You risked your life to save a man you met only once.”
“It was the Christian thing to do.”
“Many men call themselves Christians,” said Oludara, “but I doubt one in a hundred would have done that. The bannermen who come to enslave this tribe are Christians, are they not?”
“Indeed they are,” said Gerard, looking away. “Indeed they are.”
#
Oludara squatted beside Arany in the village center, sharing a meal with a few dozen members of their longhouse. They passed around baskets filled with mangoes, cassava cakes, and roasted fish. It would be Oludara’s last meal before his trip. As was customary among the Tupinambá, the group ate in silence.
When their meal ended, Oludara looked to Arany. He searched for a saying to break the silence, but the wisdom of his people failed him. Instead, he chose to be direct.
“We’ll visit within a year,” he said.
“I care not how long you travel,” she replied. “Our warriors leave for many moons when they make war.”
“My adventures with Gerard have waited too long,” he said. “I gave him my word I would travel the Brazilian wilderness with him for five years, and nearly four still remain.”
“I know of your oath.”
“What would you have me say?”
“Answer me one question: do you go for Gerard’s sake, or your own?”
He stared off for some time before replying.
“I am young,” he said, “and my heart longs for adventure. Side by side, Gerard and I have battled many uncommon foes, and no doubt many more await.”
“Very well I know,” said Arany. “Danger follows that man as flies are attracted to meat. With my heart pounding, I have watched the two of you face danger more times than I can remember.”
“Yet I can think of no better companion to face that danger. I would follow him to his Christian hell if he asked it, and yet it is he who follows my lead.”
“Then lead him to hell and back, for all I care.”
Oludara laughed. “Are you jealous? You act as though I go off to marry him!”
Arany said nothing.
“Do not be this way. A brother by blood no man can choose, but Gerard is my brother by choice. How could I abandon a brother?”
“Always one must be abandoned,” she said. “The choice is which one.”
Oludara didn’t know what to say. He was relieved when Gerard and Jakoo approached and broke the silence.
“I’ve said my goodbyes,” said Gerard. “We should depart.”
“Will you return to us once you rid yourselves of Antonio?” asked Jakoo.
“No,” said Gerard. “As soon as Oludara has sent him off to Ilhéus, we’ll head south. I’ve heard tales of perilous beasts that way, and I’m curious to see with my own eyes this Rio de Janeiro of which so many speak.”
Gerard stopped abruptly, and Oludara glanced at Arany to see her glaring at him like a dog ready to bite. Oludara tried to think of something that might break the tension, but it was Gerard who spoke first:
“Arany...” he muttered. “I’ve been thinking. You’ve shown yourself to be quite brave. You could come with us, if you like.”
Oludara almost fell over at the suggestion. Arany’s jaw dropped. After a few moments of awkward silence, she burst out laughing.
“No thank you, Gerard,” she said. “You are like two little boys, always needing to prove yourselves. I’ll leave the little adventures for the little boys; I have no need for fame.” Then she shot a serious look at Oludara. “My place is with my tribe, always.”
“We’ll leave that discussion for my return,” said Oludara.
“And will you return?”
“Let us not part this way,” said Oludara. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. “We will return, I promise. Your beautiful face will be always in my mind, calling me back.”
Arany laid her head on Oludara’s chest and he squeezed her tightly.
“Be careful with your promises,” she said. “I, too, was bound by an oath for many years.”
Clacking noises drew the attention of the group as Yandir came hobbling up.
“Gerard,” he said, “it is good I found you before your journey.”
“Yandir,” said Gerard, nodding.
Oludara noticed the formality with which Gerard addressed the pajé. Gerard continued referring to him as a “damned sorcerer” behind his back.
Yandir held forward a gourd with a wooden stopper. Unusual symbols had been carved into it.
“I know you believe not in my magic, but please accept this. The spirits tell me you will need it.”
Gerard took the gourd on the tips of his fingers and eyed it skeptically. He shook it by his ear and it made a sloshing sound.
“Don’t shake it like that,” said Yandir. “It is a powerful mixture. It will heal you when your wounds are dire.”
Gerard opened his mouth as if to argue, but Jakoo stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.
“Your acceptance of the gift will honor us all, Gerard,” he said.
Gerard sighed and shrugged. “If I must.” he said. He slung down his pack and shoved in the gourd.
“There is something else,” said Yandir. “You were right about Piraju. His speech had terrible consequences for us, but if he had not spoken, the consequences would have been worse. It was a cruel trick the spirits played upon is, but you saw through it.”
“It was no trick,” said Gerard. “Life is precious, and s
hould never be ended lightly.”
“It is a strange idea, Gerard. To us, life and death are the same, neither greater than the other. I will think on this.”
Yandir turned and left.
Arany broke away from Oludara’s embrace. “Safe travels,” she said. Then she turned to Gerard and added, “Bring him back to me safely, or suffer the consequences.”
Gerard took a step back and said, “You know I’ll do my best.”
“You need not worry,” said Oludara. “With Gerard by my side, we will defeat whatever stands in our way.”
Arany left them.
Jakoo looked to Oludara and said, “We head northwest. As is our custom, we will burn the village when we leave. You know the signs we use to hide messages in the forest; I will leave some to show our trail. May your gods protect you.”
“And may the tribe find good land,” said Oludara, “filled with water and hunting.”
“For many lifetimes, our people have searched for the Land Without Evil. Our ancestors came here, to the great water, looking for it, but never found it. Perhaps we shall find it in the dry plains of the Backlands.”
“May we all find it someday,” said Oludara.
#
Oludara took a deep breath before leaving the cover of the forest to emerge in Antonio’s camp. He stooped as he walked, greatly reducing his height. His ivory knife lay tucked into his pants, hidden beneath his shirt. An eye patch covered his right eye. It was a great discomfort, but he took heart in the fact that, if everything went as planned, he could send off Antonio quickly and be on his way. As he hobbled into camp, all eyes turned toward him. Just as Piraju had described, dozens upon dozens of bannermen and native slaves filled the ranks of Antonio’s band.
The camp itself consisted of netted hammocks stretched between trees and campfires spread among them. Packs and supplies littered the ground, most of them covered by hanging canvas sheets. Antonio’s banner—red and gold split diagonally along the middle—stood in the center of the clearing. Unlike Gerard’s crude sketch of the elephant and macaw, this banner had been embroidered from fine cloth.
Almost all of the bannermen wore cotton shirts and leggings. Some used boots while others walked barefoot. Many wore thick, leather vests capable of blocking a sluggish arrow, and a few even wore helmets, though most used wide-brimmed hats to protect themselves from a greater enemy: the sun. Perhaps half of the bannermen looked to be of full European decent, whilecaboclos—those of mixed native and European parentage so common in Brazil—comprised the other half.
The native slaves reminded Oludara of his adopted Tupinambá tribe. They used no clothing except for some decorative feathers and stones. Most wore their hair in a tonsure.
Oludara wondered who would address him first, until he spotted Antonio and Diogo striding forward from one end of the encampment.
Antonio wore a rich, red doublet over his cotton clothes. On his belt hung a shining, fancy rapier and matching dagger. A red feather curled out from his wide-brimmed hat. In his right hand he carried a harquebus decorated with engraved metal plates. On his sun-darkened face he sported a black beard, fuller and longer than the last time Oludara had seen it. He held his head high and his eyes exuded confidence.
Diogo wore a brown, padded vest and carried a simpler rapier and harquebus. Tufts of dark brown hair curled from under his hat, and the stubble of days’ old whiskers marked his cheeks. His movements were more relaxed, but still confident.
“Where did this slave come from?” asked Antonio, ignoring Oludara and looking instead to his soldiers for an answer.
“Master,” said Oludara, keeping his eyes down, “I come from Ilhéus.”
“Ilhéus?” asked Antonio, his voice skeptical. “Must have escaped.” He motioned to some nearby men. “Tie him up!”
“Wait!” said Oludara, falling to his knees for effect. “I am not escaped; I am my master’s faithful servant. He sent me to seek the red-and-gold banner of Antonio Dias Caldas and ask for his help.”
“Is that so? And what help is that?”
“A terrible beast torments the town, stealing people at night and leaving them bloodied and dead in the hills. My master said that Antonio must come quickly, or we will all die. Is Antonio here?”
“I am the one you seek, but I don’t go chasing around the territory at the whim of any man.” Antonio looked at Diogo. “Do you believe this story? Or is this slave just trying to save his skin?”
Diogo stared at Oludara, who kept his gaze firmly on the ground.
“It’s possible,” said Diogo. “We should make sure. Ilhéus is but a five-day walk.”
“Hmm,” said Antonio, tugging his beard in a way that reminded Oludara of Gerard. “I don’t think so. Ilhéus has always been a plague. The people have no respect for their leaders, even to the point of rebellion. And the Aimore Indians are a constant threat. Even if the slave does tell the truth, it’s not worth it.
“Besides, we should be close to that village by now. I can’t return to the coast empty handed. We need to capture some of the local blacks first.”
Oludara grimaced at Antonio’s casual use of “local blacks”, an insult to both his own people and the natives he had come to love. However, he controlled himself.
“My master, Francisco de Santarem,” said Oludara, using a name Gerard had made up, “said that he would be most grateful for your aid. His sugar mill is the largest in Ilhéus, and his family has ties to the king.”
This gave Antonio pause. With a quick glance, Oludara could see he was mulling over the invented name, but likely wouldn’t mention that he’d never heard of it in front of his men.
“Yes,” Antonio finally replied. “Ilhéus may be a godforsaken rubbish heap, but if the people there are in distress, we should respond. We’ll head out first thing in the morning.”
From the corner of his eye, Oludara could see Diogo staring steadily in his direction, so he lowered his head even farther.
“I must return to my master with the good news,” said Oludara.
“No need for that,” said Antonio, “you’ll be safer with us. And if something should happen to your master before we get there, I’ll keep you for the trouble.
“Martim,” he shouted to someone behind him, “place a collar on this slave!”
Oludara gritted his teeth as the soldier approached with a heavy iron clasp.
#
The next night, after a long march, Oludara’s neck chafed from the collar and his feet ached from the constant stubbing he suffered as he accustomed himself to the eye patch. He longed for a hearty meal and a deep slumber, and searched the camp for the means to both.
Catching the scent of cooking meat, Oludara followed it to the middle of camp, where he discovered a boar roasting over a fire. One of the soldiers had spotted the animal around dusk, and on a bet, Antonio had taken it down with a single shot. A soldier tended the meat while a native slave turned the spit. Oludara licked his lips and delighted in the musical sound of the crackling grease.
When the soldier noticed Oludara’s hungry gaze, his face squeezed into a frown. He scanned the campsite and shouted to Antonio, “Hey, Captain! What do we feed to this slave here?”
Antonio shrugged and said, “Give him some green bananas. That’s what everyone feeds the slaves.”
Oludara’s spirit sank as someone dropped a pair of bananas into his hand. He turned and slunk away, muttering, “Not again with the cursed bananas...”
When no one offered him a place to sleep, he found a patch of grass beneath a tree and leaned back to eat. He relaxed and watched the bustle around him as others took their meat and settled into their hammocks, one by one drifting off to sleep.
Just as his eyelids began to fall, a hand on his shoulder jerked him awake. He turned to see Gerard crouched in the shadow of the tree.
Oludara smiled at his friend and whispered, “I was wondering when you might show up.”
“Well, I’m here now,” said Gerard, “so l
et’s flee.”
“I cannot leave with this collar on; I must steal the key from Antonio first. And even so, the moment is not right. If I escape now, it will seem suspicious. It is best I accompany him all the way to Ilhéus and make sure the group does not stray off course. If Antonio has second thoughts, I will convince him to continue on.”
“Then what do I do?”
“Race ahead to Ilhéus. One man can travel faster than many, and you can gather supplies there while you wait for me. Once we are close, I will escape and we can flee south.”
Gerard opened his mouth to comment when a hand grabbed Oludara’s eye patch and yanked it off. Oludara looked up to find Diogo staring down at him.
“Not exactly blind in that eye, are you?” said Diogo. He turned to Gerard. “I thought you might show up as well, Gerard. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize your companion, whom I saw in the plaza that day we returned from slaying the Botat? Tell me swiftly what you’re doing here, or I’ll sound the alarm.”
“We’re saving the tribe of Tupinambá with which we spent the last year,” Gerard said. “Your troop was almost upon them.”
The fact that Gerard would share the truth so quickly surprised Oludara, but he trusted his friend’s judgment. Diogo, after all, had been an acquaintance of Gerard before Oludara met him.
“I wondered how you disappeared for so long,” said Diogo. “Antonio always keeps an eye out for you; don’t think he’s forgotten the way you embarrassed him in Salvador.”
“Embarrassed him?” said Gerard, raising his voice for a moment before recalling where he was and returning it to a whisper. “He tried to ship me back to Europe!”
“It is one of his few failures, and he won’t soon forget it. Now, if you’re leading us into a trap, I must tell Antonio.”
“It’s no trap,” said Gerard. “There’s no monster in Ilhéus. Antonio will lose nothing but time, and countless of our friends will be saved.”
“Nevertheless, it is to his cost and I must tell him.” Diogo turned to leave.
Gerard stood and grabbed him, spinning him around to face him.
“I know what kind of man you are, Diogo, and I know this mission is not to your liking. Enslaving innocent natives is barbaric. When you recognized Oludara, why didn’t you tell Antonio immediately?”
An Inauspicious Visit Page 2