"But I would be pleased to hear of them." Katherine's voice was sharp,
but then she caught herself and softened it. "Are they something like
the Christian God?"
Serina paused, examining Katherine for a moment, and then her eyes
assumed a distant expression. "I do not know much about them. I know
there is one god like the Christian God. He is the high god, who never
shows his powers on earth. But there are many other gods who do. The
one the Yoruba call on most is Shango, the god of thunder and
lightning, and of fire. His symbol is the double-headed axe. There also
is Ogun, who is the god of iron." She hesitated. "And the god of war."
Katherine studied her. "Do you believe in all these African deities
yourself?"
"Who can say what's really true, senhora?" Her smooth skin glistened
from the heat. She brushed the hair from her eyes in a graceful motion,
as though she were in a drawing room, while her voice retreated again
into formality. "The Yoruba even believe that many different things can
be true at once. Something no European can ever understand."
"There's something you may not understand, senhora," Winston
interjected, speaking now in English. "And I think you well should. The
Yoruba in this room also knows the language of the Portugals. Take care
what you say."
"It's not possible." She glanced at Atiba contemptuously, continuing
loudly in Portuguese. "He's a saltwater _preto_. "
Before Winston could respond, there was an eruption of shouts and
curses from the direction of the mill. They all turned to watch as
Benjamin Briggs shoved through the doorway, pointing at Atiba.
"Get that one out here. I warrant he can make them understand." The
sweltering room seemed frozen in time, except for Briggs, now motioning
at Serina. "Tell him to come out here." He revolved to Winston. "I've a
mind to flog all of them."
"What's wrong?"
"The damned mill. I doubled the size of the bundles, the very thing I
should've done in the first place, but now the oxen can't turn it
properly. I want to try hooking both oxen to one of the sweeps and a
pair of Africans on the other. I've harnessed them up, but I can't get
them to move." He motioned again for Atiba to accompany him. "This
one's got more wit than all the rest together. Maybe I can show him
what I want."
Serina gestured toward Atiba, who followed Briggs out the door, into
the fresh night air. Katherine stared after him for a moment, then
turned back. Winston was speaking to Serina again in Portuguese, but
too rapidly to follow.
"Will you tell me one thing more?"
"As you wish, senhor." She did not look up from the cauldron.
"What was going on last night? With the drums?"