May 2nd, 1801, Casa de las Pampas
Eduardo, mi querido, I pray you are safe. I understand why you could not tell me that you were leaving, but my heart nearly stopped when I saw you galloping through that horrible storm. I trust that you were able to slip past the silk stockings, as I am certain that they would not set foot outside on such a day. Can you I imagine any one of them with even a speck of mud on them? Blood, yes, but mud? Never.
Victor was a wise choice to accompany you. He is steady and silent, a good man. There has flooding here and damage from the wind. I will go the camp today and see if there has been any damage. Do not worry, the camp will be ready when you return with our friends.
The bridge is out. I will go with Pau to investigate. We will repair the bridge before you return, or find another way across. If nothing else, Pau and Miguel can make a raft or a pontoon bridge. Of course, I will not be able to visit the high base, until I can get across the river. Ronan and Fergus are strong swimmers, perhaps they can make it across, but not yet. The river is too wild and filled with debris.
I questioned Lemuel. Before I talk of him, I need to know if you knew he was here for so long. It seems that at least your mother, Rose, and Ethna have known of him for four years. Did you, also? I can’t imagine how you couldn’t have. Why did you not tell me? He says he has been here for fourteen years, although I’m not sure I believe him. I not sure what to believe about him. Could he be a British agent? If so, why would he have been here so long? How do we know if he has been here as long as he says he has?
I do not like an Englishman showing up at this time. Everything is so delicately balanced, the slightest shift can destroy everything. What if his attack on Cupido was intended to set Cupido’s people against us? Is it possible that the English want us out of the way so the Northern approach to the capitol is controlled by Cupido’s men? The British could land north of Puerto Seguro and march down the Capitol. Morales controls the land to the North and he could have allied with the British, but that is unlikely. He hates the British.
I wish you were here, Eduardo. Events are moving so quickly. I must go, there is much to do. Be safe, mi querido. Come back to me quickly.
Maria
********
Maria folded the letter and carried it over to a shelf lined with skeletons of small mammals. She knew that Eduardo would never read the letter. He would be back in two weeks and he would be on the road for most of the time. Still, it made her feel that he was close, that they were talking together, and she very much needed that closeness.
Carefully sliding two mouse skeletons aside, Maria slipped a short, stout scalpel blade into a seam in the plaster wall. She flicked her wrist and a panel swung back on hidden hinges revealing a small wall safe. She quickly spun the dials, opened the heavy door, and placed the letter on top of a pile of papers. Several small sacks of reals were pressed into the rear of the safe. Before she closed the door, she placed Lemuel’s poison in the safe also.
*******
The storm played out a little before dawn. As if to make amends for its absence yesterday the blazing sun drove all clouds from the sky. It felt more like summer than late fall. The children were unable to control themselves after yesterday’s imprisonment. They chased each other madly around the grounds, acting out the adventures of Mariel and Fiona, complete with bears, pirates, ghosts, and monsters chasing the lost girls and threatening them with all sorts of hair raising violence. The screams and laughter could be heard all through the house, but after yesterday’s scare, no one cared to quiet the happy din.
Don Hernando had invited the entire O’Brien clan to have dinner at the house. Mrs. O’Brien had told him about Cupido’s gang’s actions, and he was appalled. He offered to open his house to all of the O’Brien’s and then suggested that all have dinner so he could extend the invitation himself. Mrs. O’Brien accepted and sent Ethna and the twins to spread the word.
As soon as the breakfast dishes were cleaned, preparations began for dinner. The kitchen soon filled with Mrs. O’Brien, her daughters, and a changing selection of grandchildren bustling about. Throughout that warm day, the stove never cooled, as a stream of cakes, pies, and breads flowed from the ancient iron heart of the kitchen. As the day wore on, space was made for a ham and several ducks. Beans were soaking, rice was cleaned, and squash were cubed. Mrs. O’Brien wandered from pot to pot, dipping in a wooden spoon in each, and sampling the dishes. Sometimes she would nod and move on, other times she’d add a pinch or two of one of the seasonings stored in pottery jars on a rack above the stove.
Lead by Pau, the men and the older boys had divided into groups to inspect the property and determine how things stood. Pau and his boys, Victor, Ronan, and Finn, checked the butchering shed and the bridge. Miguel Sanchez, Lucinda’s husband, and his brother, Rafael inspected the metal working shop. Fergus, Pau’s youngest brother, and Rose’s brother-in-law, Kevin went to round up the livestock and drive it to the large corrals on Don Hernando’s grounds. Maria and Fergus would then would examine each animal for injuries. Antonio, Dougal, and Brandon, the Bryant cousins who had been staying with Pau and his wife Vera, would help Fergus with the livestock.
Ethna was given the task of organizing the older children to form a communication network that would run messages, supplies, food, and whatever else was required between the kitchen and the various locations across the grounds. Fiona, Margaret, Daniel, Michael, and Declan were the runners. Ethna found whistles for everyone and they worked out a quick code. Soon the squad was flying about with military precision, their staccato whistles filled the air alarming any bird within earshot.
Maria was on the front porch with her father surveying the extent of the flooding when she heard several quick bursts on a whistle followed by Declan rounding the corner of the house. He made the mistake of trying to whistle while running up the front the steps. He stumbled and Maria was sure he was going to land on his face and swallow his whistle, but Don Hernando surprised them both by springing to his right and catching the boy who hadn’t stopped blowing his whistle.
Don Hernando set Declan on his feet and, seeing the boy’s cheeks fill, reached down and popped the whistle from his mouth. The stopper removed, Declan disgorged the trapped air and covered Don Hernando’s jacket with spit. The boy was mortified. He stood with his chest heaving and his eyes bulging out of his head.
Don Hernando very slowly drew out a crisp white handkerchief. He carefully mopped the spit off of this jacket, then said to the horrified boy, “Was there something I could do for you, Declan?”
“Miss Maria, Sir, Miss Maria” said Declan struggling to get the words out.
“Yes, what about Miss Maria,?” asked Don Hernando. “You must try and breathe, young man,” he added.
Declan rocked back and forth twice as if building momentum, then blurted out, “Uncle Pau wants to see her at the bridge.”
“Your Uncle Pau would like Maria to come to the bridge? Is that correct?,” asked Don Hernando.
Declan nodded vigorously.
Don Hernando precisely folded the soiled the handkerchief and decided not to return it to his pocket. He then turned to his daughter and said, “Maria, my dear, it’s for you.” With that, Don Hernando solemnly made his way to his library and was not seen again until he was called for supper.
******
As she neared the bridge, Maria was surprised to see Mrs. O’Brien with Pau. She expected that Mrs. O’Brien would spent all day in the kitchen supervising the dinner preparations. Maria could see them examining the supporting post that had anchored the bridge. They couldn’t get any closer than eight feet to them because of the floodwater.
Pau heard Maria’s footsteps and called her over. “Look there,” he said pointing to the shattered tops of both posts. Maria wasn’t sure what she should be looking for.
“What’s going on, Pau? I don’t understand,” she said.
“Look at top of the posts, at the place where the stringer tore away. See the charring? An explosive charge was used to destroy the bridge.””
Maria shaded her eyes, then she saw what Pau had seen. “So someone destroyed the bridge and tried to make us think the storm washed out it out,” continued Pau. He waited for Maria to consider what he said.
“Who would this? And why?,” she asked, accepting Pau’s conclusion and moving on to the next issue.
“Someone who wants us on this side of the river for a while,” said Mrs. O’Brien.
“But why?,” Maria asked.
“If we cannot cross the river we cannot get to the road,” Pau answered.
“And we cannot stop anyone who is using the road to get to the capitol,” Maria added.
The three started back toward the house in silence until Maria said, “Do you think we can fix the bridge before Eduardo and Victor return?”
“We will try,” said Pau calmly.
“And will can always build a raft or a floating bridge,” added Mrs. O’Brien.
“Either way we need guards on the bridge,” said Maria. “Once we repair it.”
No one answered. They all knew that things were happening, and they hoped that they would be ready.
*****
While Mrs. O’Brien was examining the bridge, the activity in the kitchen continued unabated. Lucinda and Rose’s happiness at the safe return of their daughters had carried over to today. They had decided to make baked apples as a special treat for the girls. Pau’s wife, Vera, was tending to the meat and poultry. She was mentally portioning the ham and ducks to determine if there would be enough for the whole family. “Are the Bryant boys coming, do you think?,” she asked.
“I am sure they are,” answered Rose. “Don’t you think so, Lucy?”
Lucinda smiled at Rose’s slipping into her childhood name. “If there’s food those boys will be here. They eat like horses. We need to marry them off so they don’t eat you and Pau out of house and home.”
They all laughed while imagining Maria with Antonio, the oldest of the Bryant’s. Vera was the first the speak. “But not Maria,” she said.
“Not to worry,” Lucinda said. “Maria scares those Bryant boys to death.”
“Lucinda, what about Ester’s sisters? Or Miguel’s?,” asked Vera.
“Ester’s sisters are married. Miguel has two sisters, Maria and Lupe.”
“Well?,” asked Rose. “What they like?”
“They are good girls,” said Lucinda somewhat distractedly. She was preparing a sauce that was at a delicate stage. “They’re not like Ethna.”
Rose stiffened at this unexpected slight against her daughter.
In the silence that fell over the kitchen, Lucinda’s words returned to her ears and hammered on her brain to get her attention. When she realized what she said, Lucinda clapped both hands over her mouth as if trying to force the words back in. “Oh, Rosie,” she cried, “Forgive me, Rosie. That’s not what I meant. I only meant that Miguel’s sisters are very traditional. They want to get married and have a family. Ethna is different, you know that. She wants many more things. She doesn’t know what she wants yet. You know I love, Ethna, Rosie. Please, don’t be angry.”
“You mean they are like you and I,” said Rose. “And my Ethna is something else.”
“Well, yes, I suppose so,” said Lucinda. “But that isn’t bad. You know I adore Ethna, Rosie.”
“Yes, yes, you do, I know,” said Rose. “And I know Ethna can be difficult.”
Both women turned their attention to their cooking. Vera wondered if she should say anything, but she didn’t want to get between the two sisters. She suspected that this exchange was not about the marriageability of Miguel’s sisters or of Ethna, but about the foolish risk Ethna had taken yesterday.
“I’m going to take a tray to Lemuel,” announced Rose. “Would you keep an eye on the baked apples, Lucy?”
Lucy accepted the peace offering gladly. “Of course, Rosie.”
“I’ve barely had time to check on him since yesterday morning,” said Rose, as she placed some fruit and a glass on milk on the tray.
“I won’t be gone long,” Rose answered, placing a sandwich on the tray, and backing through the door.
“Take your time,” Vera called after her. “We can handle things down here.”
********
Maria walked back to the house with Mrs. O’Brien and Pau. When they walked a short way from the bridge and had left Pau to go check on the butchering shed, Mrs. O’Brien asked, “Maria, how did your visit with Mr. Hawkins go?”
“Not so well,” Maria answered.
“Oh? What happened?,” Mrs. O’Brien said. Maria did not want to have this conversation, but she knew Mrs. O’Brien too well to know that she could not avoid it.
“I lost my temper. He is infuriating, Mrs. O’Brien. He lives in a dream world. Or maybe he wants us to think he does. It’s absurd! His life is his business, I know, but his dream world has crashed into our real world, and at a very bad time.”
Mrs. O’Brien stopped walking. Maria took a few steps before she noticed, so she had to turn around and face Mrs. O’Brien.
“Before you tell more about Mr. Hawkins, Maria, I want to know that Eduardo will not be harmed. He is smart, capable, and experienced. You are right, things are moving quicker than we expected, but Eduardo will return to us in time. You will see.” Mrs. O’Brien reached out and drew Maria to her. She hugged Maria and smoothed her hair.
Mrs. O’Brien’s hugs had reassured the volatile Maria ever since her mother had died when Maria was very young. If you could convince either to discuss their relationship, which is unlikely, they each would deny that Mrs. O’Brien had taken on a maternal role, but they would both agree that a special understanding existed between the them. They had come come to rely on each other’s strength and on their sensitivity to each other’s emotions. Which is why Mrs. O’Brien could tell that Maria was not reassured, that something was still upsetting her.
Maria lingered on briefly in Mrs. O’Brien’s embrace, then she gently, but firmly pushed away. Mrs. O’Brien released her and gave her a quizzical look. The two women stood face-to-face by the bank of the flooded river. As the muddy river swept past them carrying the debris left by yesterday’s storm, a current of confused emotions flowed between them. Mrs. O’Brien knew that she had hurt Maria somehow, but she didn’t know what she had done.
“What’s wrong, Maria?,” she asked softly.
In the simple question, Maria heard an echo of the countless times she’d turned to this woman for comfort. “Why did you not tell me years ago about this man?,” she asked.
“I was worried that if he was hiding from some trouble, you and your father might be accused of helping him.”
“But your family knew and you didn’t trust father and me?,” said Maria as she struggled to hold back her temper.
“I was sure that he was harmless, a crazy man. But if he had done something, I didn’t want anyone to be able to go to the authorities and accuse you or your father of helping him. You must believe I had no idea how long he’d been here or that he would decide to do what he did.”
Maria considered Mrs. O’Brien’s words. She couldn’t help but think that if Eduardo was here, if she knew he was safe, she would not be so upset. The familiar uncomfortable recogintion that her growing attachment to Eduardo was chipping away at her independence returned to Maria. “Balance,” she thought. “I must find a balance.” Had Mrs. O’Brien heard those thoughts she would have chuckled. She had long ago come to terms with Maria’s intense, headlong pursuit of her passions. Balance was not in Maria’s nature. “I’m worried that the incident with Cupido the other night will drive all of the families associated with the de la Vegas,” aded Maria.
Maria looked at the river and looked at Mrs. O’Brien. “Come,” she said. “Let’s go home.” The two women returned to the busy kitchen silently walking side by side. A short way down the path, Maria slipped her arm in Mrs. O’Brien’s who gave her a gentle squeeze.
***********
Lucinda was surprised that Rose returned from visiting with Lemuel so quickly. She saw that Rose was upset, but she could not tell why. Rose had returned to the kitchen and resumed her tasks without saying a word to anyone. “Well, it looks like nosy little sister will just have to ask,” Lucinda thought.
“How is Lemuel?,” Lucinda asked. Vera jerked her head toward Rose.
“His injuries are healing nicely. No infections,” was all Rose said and then she began to poke and prod the ham as if she wanted to make certain that it was not alive.
Vera caught Lucinda’s eye and tapped her own shoulder then motioned to the door. Lucinda shook her head. Lucinda knew that Rose and Vera were close. Whatever was upsetting Rose, Vera’s presence had nothing to do with Rose’s unwillingness to talk about it. Lucinda decided to take the direct approach.
Lucinda folded her arms over her breast, leaned back slightly so she look down her nose at her sister, and in a flawless impersonation of their mother said, “You know you’re going to tell me, young lady. I always get the truth out of you in the end. So why not tell me now before this kitchen fills up with the Lord knows many people I have to feed tonight?”
Rose shook her slowly and suppressed a smile. Vera tried to turn a guffaw into a cough and nearly strangled herself. Rose suspended her assault on the innocent ham and sat down at the table. “Something is worrying him. I’ve never seen him so anxious. I asked what was wrong he and didn’t want to answer. He finally told me that he didn’t know to repay us. He has nothing, Lucy.”
Vera brought Rose a cup of tea and sat next to her. “Rose, honey. I don’t want to upset you, but I need to ask you something. I haven’t met him. You have spent more time with him than anyone. Do you think he is in right mind?”
It was Lucinda’s turn to watch for a reaction. She couldn’t believe that Vera had asked such a question, but she had to admit it was the question that she’s been afraid to ask.
Rose’s eyes flashed at Vera and Lucinda thought, “Well, that’s that.” Rose was the gentlest of the O’Brien’s, but she had also inherited her mother’s temper. “Absolutely not,” said Rose defiantly. “Lemuel is no madman. I don’t why he did what he did. I don’t know why he came here and lived the way he did. I don’t think he knows, not completely at least. He’ll tell me when he needs to and I’ll listen. Maybe I can help him find out.” Rose ended abruptly, realizing that in her anger she had veered off into areas that she had meant to keep to herself.
Lucinda came to her sister’s aid. “Do you think he’s strong enough to join us for dinner?,” she asked.
Rose brightened at the thought. “I don’t know. Perhaps, if one of the men can help him down the steps.”
“Why don’t you go ask him if he would like to join us?,” said Lucinda.
“I think I will,” Rose said, and she stepped swiftly out of the kitchen. Lucinda and Vera weren’t certain, but they thought they might have seen just a hint of a skip in her step.
“Our Rose,” thought Lucinda. “The patron saint of lost puppies.”
********
When Don Hernando heard the size of the dinner party, he insisted the meal be switched to the dining room. After a round of polite refusals and polite insistence, the offer was accepted. The agreement that it would be better for the children to eat in the kitchen clinched the deal. Don Hernando did not mind if the children ate the dining room. He rather enjoyed being around the little creatures for short periods of time when their parents accompanied them. No, it was the mothers who would not accept their children eating in dining room without a complete scrubbing and careful dressing in their best clothes.
The only difficulty with the agreement was where to draw the line between adult and child. Ethna and Ronan, at nineteen and eighteen, belonged with the adults. Beside, no one could image Rose telling her daughter that she had to eat in the kitchen. It would take at least two adults to deliver that news to Ethna. Ronan, tall and strong like his father, fit right in with young men.
The problem was Pau’s youngest son, Finn, who was fifteen, Lucinda’s oldest girl, Fiona, fourteen, and Rose’s other daughter, Margaret, fifteen. When Pau showed up, his wife, Vera asked him what he thought. “Finn needs to be with us tonight,” he said. So Finn joined the adults.
When Margaret and Fiona were told that they were to eat in the kitchen and mind the six younger ones, the were upset, but they’d expected as much when then heard dinner had moved to the dining room. When they found out that Finn was eating with adults, they were furious. “I am six months older than him and much more mature,” declared Margaret. “I’m only four months younger than him,” added Fiona, “And my guinea pig is more mature than Finn.”
The attack on Finn continued unabated with a thorough going critique of his cleanliness, intelligence, morality, physique, verbal skills, and manners, with special emphasis being laid on tendency to indiscriminately pick his nose and fart. The girls had sequestered themselves in a small dressing that Ethna had claimed so she would have a private place in the busy house. When Ethna returned home to prepare for dinner, she found two upset young ladies sitting on her bed. Margaret was near tears and Fiona was choking the life out a pillow, while adding a punch at random intervals. Ethna had always liked her cousin Fiona.
After ordering the girls off her bed, Ethna assumed a look of royal disinterest appropriate to the granting of an audience to lower quality supplicants. She listened to their petitions, and while agreeing with their portrait of the unfortunate Finn, she saw the wisdom of her fellow adults’ decision. Ethna, as is common with older sisters, rejected the doctrine of stare decisis, so even if the girls had remembered that Ethna had joined the adults when she was thirteen, the point would have been moot. It is always the case that some people are more equal than others.
The girls waited anxiously while Ethna, their only hope, considered the options. The girls would stay in the kitchen. If they didn’t the twins would be the oldest and there’s no telling what havoc would ensue. But how to soften the blow? “There’s no way to change things,” said Ethna. The girls were crushed. “But, I will talk to Maria and see if she will take the three of us into town soon.” The girls’ spirits rose slightly, but Ethna felt like she had to do more. “And I will make Finn’s life a living hell for the next three days.” That did it. Sympathy, rewards, vengeance. What more a child ask? The girls marched of satisfied and Ethna turned to the business of dressing for dinner.
********
Don Hernando Valenzuela rested his palms on the heavy lions’ heads that leaned forward from the arms of his ornately carved dining chair. He thought of his father, grandfather, great-grandfather, and great-great-grandfather who at sat in this chair. Never had any off them witnessed a dinner like this. There were no liveried servants standing silently between each guest. Instead the harried O’Brien sisters and sister-in-laws spent the meal in and out of their seats fetching dishes from the kitchen. Don Hernando thought it was as if the sans culottes had swarmed out of France and swept through his isolated corner of New Spain. But his table full of loud laughing people did not smash their way in, tearing all down before them. He had invited them in. He had lived hand in glove with them since the death of Camille so many years ago. Somehow, he, a Royalist who loved the Old Spain, the Spain of Charles V, had become a kindly, adopted uncle of this sprawling family descended from Irish gentry who would not accept the rule of the British. The English called it “going native.”
From his place at the head off the table, Don Hernando had delivered a short welcoming speech, and other than that he exchanged a few pleasantries, but mostly he just ate and watched. He noticed that the families clustered in groups. Mrs. O’Brien and Maria shared the foot of the broad table. They spent most of the time in serious conversation between themselves.
On Mrs. O’Brien’ s right sat Pau, her oldest son, the his wife Vera. Next to her was Finn, their youngest, then Ronan, then Victor and his young wife, Maria. Before long Pau and Vera will be a grandparents, thought Don Hernando, and Mrs. O’Brien will add a new title, great-grandmother.
Fergus, the youngest O’Brien sibling, and his wife Ester, and Brandon, one the Bryant cousins from the mountains, completed the left side of table. Ester sat on Don Hernando’s immediate left and he could not have asked for a more delightful companion. She told him amusing stories of her children, Theresa and Ossian, and of her life as a small child in the capitol of Puerto Seguro. If he where honest with himself, Don Hernando would admit that she could have talked of anything. Her youth and dark beauty were captivating to his old eyes.
The side of the table held Ethna, Rose’s oldest girl, Lucinda, and her husband, Miguel Sanchez. He would have been amazed if Ethna had sat anywhere other than next to Maria. Ethna idolized his daughter and Don Hernando felt that was it should be. Don Hernando and Miguel had become unlikely friends, and would often sit in the the library in the evening, sharing a bottle of wine and talking about the history of the grass. Miguel’s easy good humor never failed to lift Don Hernando’s flagging spirits.
Next to Rose sat Anthony, the oldest of the Bryant boys as everyone called them, and two seats from him sat his brother Dougal. Don Hernando hadn’t had much of a chance to meet the Bryant boys, but they carried themselves well and were well-mannered. They were solidly built, not very tall, and good looking. Maria told him that they were intelligent, quiet men that she thought quite highly of. She didn’t mention that they weren’t married, but Don Hernando had overheard Rose talking to Lucinda about how Anthony would be a perfect match for Maria. Don Hernando had watched Anthony closely during dinner. Anthony tried to engage Maria in conversation several times, but she showed no interest. Rose had even tried to help out, but Maria only wanted to talk to Mrs. O’Brien. After a while poor Anthony looked quite deflated. “What am I to do with that girl,” thought Don Hernando.
Between the older Bryant boys sat the strange man who had lived in the grass for so long. He was named, Lemuel Hawkins, a name that made Don Hernando thinks of pirates. Maria once had pointed out to him that all English names made him think of pirates, but this one really did. The Black Hawk. The Bloody Hawk. The Talons of the Hawk. Don Hernando had a well developed romantic imagination, but even his imagination could not transform this rather pathetic figure into a terrible pirate.
Lemuel Hawkins was still very weak. Two of the Bryant boys had carried him downstairs on a chair. He ate little and drank only watered wine. He only spoke when addressed and then only a little. It was earlier in the evenng that Lemuel made a favorable impression on Don Henando.
Before dinner, Don Hernando was reading his library. There was a knock on the door and he went to open it. Standing in the doorway were two of the Bryant boys, and between them was Lemuel Hawkins. The Bryants had lifted him into a standing position and were supporting his weight while trying not to make it obvious that he could not stand on his own. Lemuel’s weakened legs hung limply.
“I want to that thank you, sir, for all that your family has done for me. I do not deserve such kindness.” Lemuel tried to bow. “I am in your debt.”
Don Hernando was moved at this display of courtesy, but he wasn’t sure what to make of this man in the attic. His own health did not allow iDon Hernando to climb the steps to the attic, so he had not yet met the young man. Maria did not want to talk about him. Lemuel may be English, and that is a great deal for Don Hernando to overcome, but the courteous act struck home with the Don’s romantic streak.
Don Hernando looked at Lemuel and wondered if, after the long meal, he was strong enough to talk for a while. “Mr. Hawkins,” he said in a voice loud enough to stir Lemuel. “If you are finished with your meal, would you like join me in the library? You will the library much more comfortable.”
“Certainly, Sir,” answered Lemuel gratefully. “I am ready anytime these gentlemen are free to assist me. I’m afraid my legs aren’t quite up to walking yet.” The thought of escaping the crowded room was a tremendous relief to Lemuel.
And so they went, after Don Hernando had thanked everyone for coming, complimented the cooks on the food, Ester for her charming company, and Mrs, O’Brien on her notable family. Don Hernado lead the way to the library and Lemuel was carried in his chair by Antonio and Dougal. As the boys helped Lemuel into one of the large leather chairs, Don Hernando poured them a glass of port. The three men stood and and talked while they drank. “If you need us, just call, Sir, but we need to be getting back to the others,” said Anthony. “Thank you for the excellent port.”
Don Hernando showed them to the door, then returned to Lemuel. He offered Lemuel a drink, but he asked for water only. After getting himself a sherry and water for Lemuel, Don Hernando sat facing Lemuel and said, “Now, sir, what you like to talk about?”
*******
After Don Hernando and Lemuel left the dining room, the room quieted and a tension spread through the diners. The family was watching the end of the table were Maria, Pau, and Mrs. O’Brien sat. Maria waited until the last conversation died out then began. “My father saved us a lot of trouble. Mrs. O’Brien and I were working on a stratagem to manuever the two of them out of room and he did the job for us.”
“It’s getting late and we have much do over the next few days, so let’s begin. We want to make sure that everyone knows how things stand, so Pau will start by telling us about storm damage.”
Pau wiped his mouth and tossed his napkin onto his plate. “It’s not bad. Mostly minor roof damage. Miguel and his brothers will see to it. Fergus and the Bryants rounded up the animals. We lost two sheep, and few chickens, but that’s all. Once Miguel has repaired the forge, he’ll get back to building the small forge in the clearing. Ronan, Victor, and Finn will finish checking on the supplies we’ve stashed in the camp and at the high base. So far, everything is fine. One crate was damaged, but the boys saved most of the contents.
Etha had an idea that I think we should use. She tells me the hermit’s shack could be rebuilt and expanded as a safe place for the children. It is well hidden and high enough to stay dry, and a creek runs close by. After we make our repairs, I suggest we build there.” Pau looked about to see it there were any questions.
Fergus said, “We’ll need to supply it.”
Mrs. O’Brien spoke up, “I’ll be talking about that in minute.”
“Anyone else?,” asked Maria. No one spoke.
Mrs. O’Bien saw there were no questions and began. “I checked the food we’ve put up. We didn’t lose much. Not enough to even talk about. If the roofs get repaired quickly, we’ll be fine. And I know that Miguel’s gang will take care of that.” Miguel nodded. We can shift some food, blankets, and wood to this new shed. But what about the animals? Is there any way we could hide them in the grass?”
“I’ll look into, Momma,” said Fergus. “When Eduardo gets back, he’ll help.”
Mrs. O’Brien sat back and waited for questions, but none came, so Maria took over. “Pau didn’t mention the bridge, so I will. We all thought the flood had washed it out, but Pau has convinced me that it was destroyed by an explosion before the flooding started. We don’t know who did it or why they did it, but until the flood waters recede, we are cut off from the Capial road, from town, and from the mountains. I hope it does not mean that our high camp has been discovered.
What I am going to tell you now must remain with us. These are dangerous times. I thought that the attack by Cupido de la Vega and this associates on Jose and Kevin was a personal attack directed at me. It would be like the silk stockings to attack you to get at my family. They see the O’Briens , Bryants, the Sanchezes, and the other families who live among us as our peons. But now I think I was mistaken. Someone wants us to be trapped on this side of the river. The flood has achieved that end, but the bridge was destroyed before the flood. Someone wanted to make certain we could not easily cross the river.
This is what I think is happening. I have spoken with your mother and Pau about this and they agree. Two weeks ago, Eduardo relieved a message from the capitol about General Morales. Eduardo’s associates have evidence that Morales is planning to overthrow the government and seize control. As you all know, Spain is old and weak and Napoleon has swallowed it whole.
I don’t know if General Morales is in the pay of the French or even the English, or simply has dreams of glory. I do know that no one around this table wishes for an ignorant bully like Morales to grab this land. Cupido de la Vega has thrown in his lot with Morales. They are cut from the same cloth. This revolt will provide Cupido with opportunities to settle old scores. We must be careful.”
Fergus, painfully shy and usually mute in large gatherings, shocked everyone by interrupting Maria. “I was shot at today. From across the river. It was two of de la Vega’s men. The ones called Gigante and Sancho.”
There was a buzz of excited talk that ended instantly when Pau’s deep voice cut through the noise. “Why didn’t you tell me?,” he demanded.
“I can take of myself. I know where they drink every night,” answered Fergus angrily.
“Fergus. Everyone. Listen.” It was Mrs. O’Brien intervening between her sons. “We cannot take personal revenge. Jose has promised me that he will not seek retribution for his house, but will act with us. Morales has many wealthy people on his side. We must be smart and act when the time is right. I am not saying to accept the insult. I am saying to hold it to your chest, to keep it alive until we can deliver our best blow.”
Fergus and Pau seemed mollified, so Maria continued. “We have information that the attack on the capitol will come by sea. Two English frigates are carrying the main force. Morales and his a few of his officers will arrive in the capitol via the northern Capitol road. He wants to ride into the capitol at the head of an army. He refuses to be set off a British ship in the company of British Marines.
As you know, the Bryants, your mother’s people, live in the mountains southeast of here. The Capitol road goes past our land and turns south when it reaches the mountains. Eduardo and I went with the Bryant boys and found a location where we believe we can trap Morales and his troops. He should have no more than three hundred men. All we have to do is to keep them from getting through the mountains for a few days, and the revolution will fail. We should be able to raise at seventy-five men. If we plan our attack carefully enough that should be enough. Once it is obvious that Morales has misplayed hand, their will be a struggle within the army and capitol. That should our corner of the world in peace, at least for a while.”
Maria could see that some of the people were frightened. Others, like Fergus, would have ridden out immediately to fight. She also knew that the extended family did not agree what was the best course to take in these hard times. She and Eduardo’s pro-French views were one of the things that had brought them together. But it was Republican France that held their loyalty, they detested Bonaparte. Her father and some of the other older men from military families were staunchly Royalist. In the capitol and other ports, there were men known as “Washingtonians,” who admired the American leader and longed for a Cincinnatus to rise up to lead them. Morales tried to appeal to these men by spending much of his time on his plantation, but his coarseness and bad manners belied his efforts.
There was a small group of Bonapartists who were supported financially by France. They were used by the various French intelligence ministries to spy and pass bribes. The English also had agents, although their chief means of influencing the region was through the two Frigates and three tenders they detached from their African fleet.
The another group that was invisible to the others consisted of the small-land holders who lived and worked on the marginal lands. They wanted to stay clear of the civil wars that everyone could sense were brewing. They were being pulled and pushed to line up with one side or the other, and they did their best to avoid committing to anyone. They came from many backgrounds. Some could trace their families back to before the Spanish arrived. Others had settled after fleeing their homes. What united them was a mistrust of authority and an independent streak. They were called “Personnes sans Valuer,” by the French, “Los Inutiles” by the Spanish, and “Bloody Nuisances” by the English. Mrs. O’Brien preferred “the Annumpi.”
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