person. The blunt knife is a good description of her.’
‘And the twins? One hardly dares ask.’
‘Vaulderie, the youngest twin, and now Viscount de Bale after Rocha’s death, is named after the word the French Inquisition used to describe the act of forming a satanic pact. Such a person could take to the air and go wherever he wished, thanks to the use of a flying ointment. Anyone found guilty of vaulderie would be tortured, and then burned at the stake. Vau’s elder brother, Abiger, now Count de Bale, is named after the most senior of all the demons of hell – the Grand Duke of Hades himself. He is always depicted as a handsome and mighty knight, master of many armies, with sixty of the infernal regions under his command. He carries with him a lance, a standard, and a sceptre. He can read the future, and is wise in the ways of war. Other warriors come to him for help in mastering their men.’
‘Why was your eldest brother, Rocha, not named in this way? Rocha means nothing as far as I am aware. A rock, maybe. That would be appropriate, mind you.’
‘Rocha was already a young man when he was adopted by Madame, my mother. It was thought inappropriate to rename him.’
‘So he renamed himself. Achor Bale.’
‘That is simply the use of a mirror image. It is common in certain quarters. We all have two sides to ourselves. Rocha decided that his dominant side was not as Count Rocha de Bale, but as Achor Bale. It was his choice. He is dead now, so it no longer matters.’
‘And your name, Lamia? Where does that come from?’
Lamia closed her eyes, as if what she was about to say had caused her much suffering in its time. ‘I, too, was older when I was adopted. In fact I am the oldest surviving child of my parents. My younger brothers are simply senior to me according to Salic law. As far as my name is concerned, Lamia was the daughter of Poseidon and the mistress of Zeus, I think. One of his many mistresses.’ She opened her eyes and laughed, although the laugh seemed to hold more regret than actual mirth. ‘That is her only significance. I think maybe Zeus accorded her the gift of prophecy as a down payment for her services to him in bed. That is all I know. She is an unimportant figure in the scheme of things.’
Calque looked at her strangely – then he shook his head, as if trying to rid himself of the presence of an intrusive fly. ‘The site at Kabah won’t be open until eight o’clock this morning at the earliest. We might as well get as close as we can and then pull over down a track. Get a little sleep in the car. Anyone have any better suggestions?’
Lamia and Sabir glanced at each other. Then they both shook their heads.
Calque threw himself back onto his seat. ‘Like Sabir always persists in saying, in that curious American way of his – I’ll take that as a yes, then, shall I?’
51
You had not expected the Maya man with the rifle to come back. Maybe, you thought, his pursuit of the pheasants had taken him far away – too far, perhaps, to consider returning? Or else his iguana had proved more elusive than expected? Maybe he had found no firewood? Your head sank lower on your chest.
Soon, you knew, you would simply curl up on the spot and fall asleep. The road between where you were and Villahermosa had been particularly difficult to accomplish. First you had been lucky. A market trader, his truck empty, had agreed for you to go in the back. Later, as was his right, he had taken on others. By the end of the journey, you were hanging out over the road, scared that you would fall off and burst your head on the highway. But somehow you had held on, your fingers turning into claws.
Then you had waited many hours for your next lift. But this man had taken you all the way to Campeche in his air-conditioned white car. The air had been so cold in the car that you had started to shiver. You would even have asked him to let you out if you had not been so sure that, after him, no more cars would stop for you. This man was a miracle in himself. A rich man. From Sinaloa. A man of substance.
At first you had been scared you would dirty his car, but later he told you that his father, too, had been a campesino, and that this was why he always offered lifts to those who needed them.
Campeche had been endless. You had walked and walked. After much time you had signalled a colectivo bus. You knew this was unwise, since you only had fifty pesos left to your name, but otherwise you knew you would collapse, and they would take you to the Cruz Roja, and you would lose your belongings, if not your soul.
When you looked up again from your thoughts, the Maya man was watching you. When he knew he had your attention he held up two iguanas. Two.
‘You see? You have brought me luck. Climb onto the front of my triciclo. I shall take you home. Can you cook?’
You shook your head. Your mother still cooked for you, and, in consequence, you had never learned how, as it would have been insulting to her.
‘No problem. I can cook. Can you make a fire at least?’
You nodded.
‘Bring yourself, then. We can make a space for you in here, by the firewood.’
52
Both Calque and Sabir were too wound up to sleep. Lamia had no such reservations. She drifted off right away, curled up on the back seat, like she always did, with her ankles drawn up beneath her, and her arms cradling her shoulders. But this time she was using Sabir’s jacket as a pillow.
The two men finally gave up the uneven struggle of the front seats. Without even discussing the issue, they both went outside to watch the sunrise.
‘You know what I love best in this world, Calque?’
Calque snorted in a lungful of fresh air. ‘No. But I suspect that you are going to tell me.’
Sabir closed his eyes ecstatically. ‘The way girls’ bottoms stick out when they walk.’
Calque pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefingers, as if he had acquired a sudden headache. ‘ Putain. But you’ve got it bad.’
‘So you were awake, huh? I thought you might have been. Being a police officer and all that. Trained to spy on people.’
Calque shrugged. ‘What did you want me to do? Pipe up and spoil your moment? There are things called Chinese walls, you know. You must have known I was awake because I wasn’t snoring for once. At least according to your theory.’
‘No. You did right. And I thank you for it. You called it, but I was too dumb to listen. If Lamia hadn’t taken the initiative, I’d probably be sitting in some bar in twenty years’ time, wallowing in regret.’
‘What? Like me, you mean?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
‘But you thought it.’
‘Haven’t you ever thought of remarrying, Calque? Starting another family? As you made so clear to me the other day, you’re not too old to begin again. Have another kid. You’ll only be seventy-five or thereabouts when she waltzes off with a serial-killing truck driver.’
‘Thank you. That’s very encouraging. I’ll definitely consider your proposition. Any particular woman in mind? Lamia, excepted, of course.’
‘Of course. Give me a little time to think about it. I’ll come up with something.’
‘Ah, what joys and sudden enhancements to confidence the unexpected possession of a woman can bring. You’ve changed, Sabir. Within the space of twelve hours you’ve become a human being again.’ Calque’s attention began to wander. ‘But not an American, eh? This woman you are proposing for me? You wouldn’t suggest that, would you?’
