Another Proud American Moment: Burning the Qu'ran in Florida

So another loony preacher strides onto the national stage and grabs the microphone of national discourse by doing something outrageous. I have no intention of mentioning this moron's name, so let's call him Rev. Fu, in honor of his throughly un-American mustache. He and his Florida flock have proposed to burn copies of the Qu'ran on 9/11. That'll show those towel-heads that we Americans are willing to adopt Nazi values in defense of our way of life.

So, what should we, the sane minority, do about the Rev. Fu and his Christian book burners? Gen. Petraeus has said that these actions would be fodder to Anti-American Islamists worldwide. I suspect he's right. Hilary Clinton has also condemned the actions. I have not heard Obama speak on the topic. I suspect he'll avoid it if at all possible. He will want to avoid any defense of Islam (see his quibbling, professorial response to the Ground Zero mosque controversy).

I say, for the incredibly small amount it's worth, let him burn whatever he wants. Hell, let's throw in the Bhagavad Gita for good measure. Those damn Hindus are so smug. Let his flock be empowered by the flames. There's nothing like a good book burning to get the blood stirring. Then we get as many people on line, on the streets, on radio, on TV, anywhere and everywhere, and we try to contact as many Muslims and Hindus as we can. We try to explain that America is a strange country. In America, idiots have the right to express their stupidity, racists can be racist (most of the time), and preachers are a dime a dozen and worth less than that. We have to explain that no preacher speaks for the country, though many claim to. I have no intention of apologizing for Rev. Fu. He is part of a grand tradition of American religious frauds, bigots, and self-important monomaniacs. We are a mess of a country, staggering our way from war to war, oblivious to our self-centeredness, and holier than Hell. And there's that city on a hill stuff, of course. But then, most of our cities are falling apart, and the hill has probably been mountain topped.

Of course, my plan would work better if we weren't waging war in Iran and Afghanistan, and if Israel didn't control our Mid-East policy, but that's out of my hands. I'm not apologizing for all that either. I promise to vote for any candidate who promises to get us out for those wars. Oh wait, I thought I did. So burn 'em, brother. Thank you for making Americans even easier to hate. That's getting more difficult to do every day.

The Lastoc of the Annumpi: Preparations (Part 14)

Tuesday, 27 May 1801

Finn

The grass was still damp with dew as Finn raced along the narrow path to the beach at Arena Amarilla. Every so often he’d jump as high as he could trying raise his head above the feathery seed heads of the tall grass. He’d been doing this as long as he could remember, and he knew that someday soon he’d make it. For now he had to settle for leaping and smacking the seed heads. The ripe ones would explode when he hit them and the air would be full of the tiny seeds. Later he’d find seeds in his hair, down his shirt, and stuck to his pants. He’d even found seeds in his ears.

Finn ran to the beach to carry a message from Big James and Pau. The sailors who brought Big James and Little Jimmy to the grass were coming back this morning with the men’s things. Big James and his son had decided not to wait for the unloading and had come on ahead. It was Finn’s job to take a message that Big James had written to the sailors, then lead them through the grass to the destroyed bridge. Finn squeezed the note from Big James in his left hand. He couldn’t imagine being happier than being the one picked for an important job.

When Finn reached the sand, he was running full out, wildly out of control. He planted his foot on the sand and stumbled when his foot slid. He yelped and threw his hands out to break his fall. The note flipped into the air and slowly tumbled down the beach tossed about by the breeze. Finn landed spread-eagled on his back. The sailors unloading the longboat stopped what they were doing and started laughing at the silly boy who’d exploded out of the grass. A sailor reached down and peeled the note from his shin. He carried it to the first mate, then went back to unloading the ship.

“Boy,” called the first mate. “Are you Finn?”

“I am, sir,” said a blushing Finn.

“On your feet sailor or you’re on report,” roared the first mate. Finn scrambled to his feet. “Jennings, Baker,” the first mate called. “Take this landsman to the captain and deliver this note. Try not to drown the little sod.”

Finn was tossed into the jolly boat and told to sit still or they’d feed him to the sharks. Finn was pretty sure there no sharks in the tiny bay, but he sat motionless just to be safe. The sturdy sailors soon cleared the bay and were beside the sloop,which was anchored in the deep passage. Finn looked up the side of the ship, which was rhythmically rising and falling and had no idea what to do. One sailor tied the jolly boat to the anchor chain while the other stood up and lifted Finn with one arm. He tucked the boy under his arm, told him "to be still for God’s sake", then climbed up the hanging ropes as easily as walking up a flight of stairs. He dropped Finn onto the deck and handed the message to an officer who carried it to the captain. 

Finn was on his feet and staring around wide-eyed. He’d never been on a ship before and the buzz of activity was dazzling. Finn stepped out of the way of men mopping the deck and felt air under his foot. He began to tumble through the opening in the taffrail that they had used to board the ship. His arms pinwheeled and a fortunate motion of the ship pushed him toward the deck. A hand clamped on his shoulder and yanked him on board.

“Jennings,” a stern voice called, “Keep an eye on our little friend here. There are so many ways to get killed on a ship.” Jennings nodded and took Finn from the captain’s grip. “On second thought, let’s get him back on land. Have Mr. Martin get the longboat and we’ll see what we can do help Big James O’Brien.”

A dazed Finn was dropped into the jolly boat and rowed ashore. He was told to sit on a particular dune and stay put until the men were ready to carry the goods to Big James. Meanwhile, he better not get hurt or die or anything, because it was more than the sailor’s job was worth. Finn sat.

It took about two hours to get everything off the boat and ready to move. Finn watched them unload item after item and he couldn’t begin to name any of them. He had no idea what they did. Finn would have loved to have free rein to mess around with them, but he knew that things were too serious for that to happen, so instead, he picked up the box he was given to carry and led the men through the grass to the bridge and Big James.

When the sailors left the grass and spotted Big James there was a great deal of hollering and loud greetings. Finn set the box he carried on the ground and wondered if his arms would ever stop aching. He walked over to a water pump, splashed water on his head, and then drank huge gulps of cold water. He filled the bucket and carried it to the sailors.

Finn stretched out on the ground and watched the sailors work. They were assembling an intricate cat’s cradle of ropes and pulleys. Manuel was working on the boat they’d carried from the bay. He was attaching iron rings to the gunwales. The rings had with some kind of clamp built into them. Before he could study the construction any further, Pau called him and told him to go back to the shore and tell the captain that they’d need two more hours.

Finn walked back Arena Amarilla. It was not yet lunchtime, but he was hungry and tired. He decided to stop in the kitchen on the way back from the bay and see what he could scrounge. He was thinking of food when he stepped on beach and saw that something was very wrong. He threw himself back into the grass and ran a short distance off the path. He flattened himself behind a low rock and waited to see if he’d been seen. 

The American ship that had brought Big James things was gone. He could see a Spanish frigate standing of the shore. Numerous boats were rowing to and from the ship. At least twenty sailors were on the beach. They were building two cannon placements at either end of the beach. Finn could see that the cannons were aimed to hit a boat on either side if it tried to land on the narrow beach. Finn carefully crept back to the path and began to run. He had to tell Pau that Major Morales had landed on the beach. 

Finn reached a turnoff and stopped. The path split and one leg lead to the safe house. He knew that Rose and some of the kids would be there by now. He decided he had to warn them before finding Pau. He found Rose, Ethna, and all the younger children. Rose could see that he was upset so she left the shelter and walked a few steps down the path with him.

She managed to calm Finn down and he was able to talk to her. “Sailors. On the beach. Guns and cannons,” was all he could say. 

“English or Spanish,” she asked. 

“Spanish,” he said.

Rose told him that he’d done the right thing to warn them, but now he needed to run as fast he could to tell Pau. Finn sprinted away and found Pau about ten minutes later. 

Pau listened to Finn and quickly decided that they needed to identify the troops. Pau and Finn hurried back to the beach. Big James gave them a sausage to eat along the way.

Finn told Pau about warning Rose and was thrilled when Pau told him that was the smart thing to do. Pau said he’d check on them on the way back. They reached the edge of the grass along the beach and lay down. Pau looked for a while and said that they were Spanish, but he couldn’t tell anything else. 

“I’m going back,” said Pau. “You stay here and keep watch. If anything changes, you come tell me or Big James. If they leave the beach, if more land, come tell me. If they start to move into the grass, warn Rose and then come tell me fast. I’ll send Ronan to check on you in three hours. Don’t let them see you.”

Finn nodded and said, “I don’t have a musket or knife or anything.”

Pau replied, “I didn’t tell you to attack them, I said watch them. Use you brains, not your muscles. Understand?”

“Yes,” said Finn embarrassed.

Pau disappeared into the grass and Finn settled in to watch the sailors on the beach.

Rose

After breakfast was eaten and everything was cleaned and put away, the O’Brien women held a meeting. They decided that Rose, Ethna and the children should go to the safe house that had been built on the site of Lemuel’s hut. They thought that the children needed to learn the way to the safe house and how to act once they were there. So Rose and Ethna rounded up the children and paired older children with younger ones. The twins tried to sneak away, but Ethna spotted them and called them back. After a brief lecture on the seriousness of this business, each child was given something to carry to the safe house to begin laying in supplies. 

The children were appropriately solemn for the first ten steps or so when Ossian, at four years old the youngest of the eight children, tripped and rolled into his sister Theresa’s legs bringing them both down. They were carrying blankets which somehow twisted around the squirming pair creating a large, lumpy knot. The twins dropped the empty water barrel they were carrying and grabbed the ends of the knot. Soon they were swinging the trapped pair and the other children were diving under them or jumping over them. Marial flopped on top of the swinging knot and brought the whole mess down. The twins pretended to trip, then dove on top of the writhing pile.

Ethna and Rose swept in before all the children could join the pile. Ethna rapped Daniel on the skull while Rose dragged Michael off the pile. There was then released a wave of chastisement of Old Testament proportion, although Ethna’s threat of smiting consisted mainly of a flick of her forefinger to an inattentive ear. The cutting edge of the women’s voices connected directly to the base of the children’s brainstem seizing control of the little legs and arms. Ethna and Rose said make a line and there was a line. They said walk silently and the line walked silently. The children knew that they had gone too far, and that their only choice was obedience. For a while. Until the women’s voices released control of their bodies. The soft earth muffled their footsteps. The only sound was Ethna quietly pointing out the trail markers and Ossian’s intermittent, half-choked sobs.

Rose walked at the back of the line so that she could keep a watch on the children, but Ethna kept drawing her attention. Her daughter would twenty soon. There had already been roundabout discussions of marriage with mothers of eligible sons from the area who just happened to stop by for this or that. Rose pictured those boys and imagined how miserable a marriage to Ethna would make both of them. Fiona and Margaret where fourteen and fifteen. They were good girls, smart and pretty. They were comfortable living in the grass. They fit in. In a few years, they would make good wives and good mothers. They would be the strong, intelligent women who worked alongside their husbands to make a living in the difficult land. But not Ethna.

Ethna was different, thought Rose. She always had been. Since she’d been able to walk, she spent more time around Maria than around children her own age. Since she was thirteen or so, she’d spent more time with Maria than with Rose. This had hurt Rose for awhile, but she could see that as Ethna grew older, her time with Maria had sharpened and focused her restless mind. Her tall, awkward body now moved with a gracefulness that echoed Maria’s. The seed of rebellion than was born in Ethna flowed into a proud flower, a rose, like me, Rose thought smiling, a rose of deep crimson. But with thorns, lots of thorns. 

At one time, Rose was afraid that Ethna was merely mimicking Maria and that Maria was treating her as a pet that she would cast off when Ethna ceased to be cute. But after Maria and Ethna had their first serious clash and had patched things up a few days later, Rose felt better about their relationship. She saw that as much as her daughter looked up to Maria, she would stand up for herself and challenge her hero. The two fiery young women had grown as close as sisters, explosions and all.

The ragged line of children halted by a branch of one of the small streams that ran through the tall grass. Ethna had decided the little ones needed a rest. The children set down their loads and walked over to the water to drink. Ossian peeked at Ethna and saw her head was turned. He discreetly, as discreet as a four year can be, splashed his cousin, Marial, who shrieked. Marial loved any excuse to shriek, and returned the splash with such vigor that Declan, innocently standing by his young cousin Ossian, was soaked. The shriek had severed the link and the children reclaimed their brainstems. The battle was on. 

Ethna was descending on the backsliders like an avenging angel, when Rose called her over. “Let them play a while,” she said. “We’ll need their attention at the safe house, and we'll get it easier if they’ve run around a bit.” Rose could tell that Ethna did not approve, so she suggested that Ethna walk on the safe house and make sure that the men had completed construction. Ethna gladly accepted the opportunity to escape the carnage in the stream.

Rose watched her daughter walk away and thought that maybe the capitol was the place for Ethna. Rose had lived there for a few years while her husband was alive. She knew there were opportunities there for attractive and intelligent young women. She also knew that were many more dangers. Rose didn’t have the money to protect Ethna in the capitol. She didn’t have the social standing either. Perhaps Maria would go to the capitol and take Ethna with her. But if Maria married Eduardo they would stay here. Rose knew that Eduardo, her youngest brother, would have a difficult time in the capitol also. 

Before Ethna could return, the children had worn themselves out and flopped down in sunny spots to dry off. Several were already sleeping. Rose glanced at the sun, deciding how long they could rest so they could complete their task and return to the house for lunch. Ethna returned and reported that the safe house was ready. The much subdued band struggled to their feet, lifted their packages, and started down the path. Rose noticed that Ethna and the older kids had quietly taken the burdens of the younger children.

The group reached the safe house, which the children insisted on calling the play house. Rose and Ethna organized the unloading and stacking of the goods. Rose then sat the children on the floor and pulled a crate over  to sit on. She began to explain to the children about the purpose of the safe house. Before long most of the younger children had nodded off, so Rose talked to the older kids. She paired up the older children and assigned two younger children to each pair. The older ones were responsible for getting the children to the safe house, in case no adult was around. 

Rose was interrupted by Finn barging through the door. He had been running and he looked terribly upset. He tried to speak and gasp for air at the same time. Rose knew that the children would respond to Finn’s agitation, so she steered him outside. After managing to calm down, Finn told her about the sailors on Arena Amarilla. Rose sent Finn to tell the others, after telling him that he did the right thing warning her. Finn ran off and Rose called to Ethna. She quickly told Ethna about the sailors. Ethna suggested that they let the younger children sleep and quietly explain to the older children about the situation. Rose agreed and they returned to the safe house.

The Twins

Daniel and Michael wolfed down their breakfasts and then executed their escape plan. When the adults weren’t looking, the boys slid from their chairs to the floor under the table. They swiftly crawled the length of the table carefully timing their pace to avoid the many swinging legs. When they reached the end of the table, they crawled into the pantry and climbed out a small window, dropping about eight feet onto the dirt of the yard and then ran to the bridge. For the past four days they had been kept out of the men’s way and they were determined to avoid being part of the children’s group yet again.

The men were discussing how to build a bridge across the swollen river. This technical discussion failed to hold the boys attention. Instead they found sticks and began to play war. The versatile sticks switched from being muskets to swords on demand, although their useful life, and their length, was quickly shortened by their sword fighting technique. The twins subscribed to the hit your opponents sword as hard as you can method of fighting which resulting in pieces of sticks flying about indiscriminately. 

When one of the wayward pieces hit Big James on the leg, he turned around to see what was going on. The twins had dropped their swords and were trying on their most innocent expression. Big James walked over, picking up a stick on the way. He reached the boys in a few long strides and flicked their sticks to them with the tip of his. “The idea, gentlemen,” he said in a drill sergeant’s basso profundo, “is to stick the pointy end into your opponent, not to hit his sword.”

He took a step back and raised his stick. The boys looked at each other and then grabbed theirs. “When you are ready, gentlemen,” said Big James. The boys breathed deeply, lifted their sticks and pointed them at James. Then they ran straight at him. Big James lowered his stick and waited for the boys to close on him. When they were within reach he faked an attack and then suddenly stepped to the side. The boys had lunged and were plunging their fearsome weapons into the air that had rushed in fill the space were Big James had just been. 

Big James flicked his foot and tripped Daniel. He threw his stick over the falling Daniel and between Michael’s legs. The boys hit the ground hard. Big James stepped between the fallen warriors and grabbed the back of their shirts with one hand each. He lifted the twins and placed them on their feet. Before he could say anything, Pau called to him and pointed to the grass. Finn was leading a line of sailors who were carrying the supplies needed to make a ferry.

“You boys better go back to the house,” Big James said. “I see Ethna and Rose over there with the little ones. They’re looking around and I’ll bet they’re looking for you. They probably need your help. Now git.” He gently tossed them in the right direction.  Ethna spotted the twins and waved them over to her. They were caught and it was back to the children, but the brief escape and sword fight was worth whatever misery Ethna would heap on them.

Eduardo

Saturday, 24 May 1801

Eduardo and Victor, having slipped away in the storm, were having a difficult time making their way to the capitol. Parts of the road were washed out by the flooded river and the passage through the foothills was littered with fallen rocks and downed trees. It took them three days to get clear of the storm damage, and they were further slowed by the crowds leaving the capitol. Word had spread that the British were invading and people were heading to the protection of the countryside. 

The men decided to stop at an inn to rest the animals and see what information they could gather. They led the horse and mules around to the livery only to find it jammed with00000000000. fine cavalry horses. The owner of the livery knew Eduardo from his frequent visits to the capitol, so he promised him that he’d find a place for the animals. Eduardo and Victor hoped the inn keeper would be as generous to them.

As they feared, there were no rooms, but they decided to eat before going to find a room elsewhere. The dining room was jammed with calvary. The officers were seated at a table off to the side and were deep in a heated discussion when Eduardo unceremoniously pulled out a chair and sat down at their table. He waved Victor to an empty seat at the end of the table. 

Several officers reached for their swords, but Major Rojas signaled to them with a wave of his hand to put them away. “Eduardo O’Brien, what are you doing here?,” asked the Major while slapping Eduardo on his arm. 

“I was looking for you and Roberto,” answered Eduardo tersely. 

Major Rojas waited for a minute before responding. Then looked around the crowded, noisy room. 

“Roberto is outside,” said the Major rising from his seat. “Let us join him.”

Two officers rose to accompany the Major, but he told them to stay and finish their meals. He would send for them if he needed them. The two officers sat down, both staring at Eduardo memorizing his features. Victor stayed behind which seemed to placate the officers.

Outside the inn, the men found Captain Roberto Rojas, who had been checking on his horse’s injured leg. Roberto and Eduardo greeted each other warmly. They were the same age and had spent much of the past five years together in the capitol. They’d met at the Paris Society, a secret group of men who admired the French Republic and who sought to break away from Spain. Major Rojas, Roberto’s father, was one of the founders.

The three men found a bench in a quiet spot around the side of the inn. The Major told Eduardo that things were moving quickly. The storm had delayed the English, but they should be in the capitol by  Thursday. General Morales had replaced the batteries at the mouth of the harbor with troops loyal to him. They would allow the British to sweep into the port in the early morning hours and take or sink the three Spanish ships docked there. The British would land marines and two companies of muskets loyal to Morales. Rojas himself was in charge of the cavalry and it was his job to cut off the Spanish troops trying to escape the capitol. Morales was coming in from the North with the pick of his calvary and a company of muskets. He was planning a triumphal entry. 

“If things go as planned, we will be a British colony with a tyrant in charge,” said Major Rojas. “As for me, I am not planning on throwing off the Spanish only to exchange masters.” The Major then told Eduardo that the Society had been carefully manuvering the military so that officers who were loyal to Spain or Morales were isolated. Officers who were Society members had been positioned to take command of the troops after the Spanish were routed by the initial attack.

“We will let Morales and the British drive the Spanish from the capitol, then we take the capitol from the British,” said Roberto. “For the plan to work, Morales must not reach the capitol. He must be seen to have avoided the hard work, while we have blood on our swords. We will be the ones who have fought for our country.”

Major Morales then gave Eduardo his orders. He and a company of calvary under Captain Roberto would ride ahead and select an ambuscade along the route. A company of musketmen would follow them on quick march. They would also have four horse drawn light field pieces.  They would be outnumbered by Morales' men, but they would have surprise on their side. The soldiers were on their way north when they ran into Eduardo. Now he and Victor must turn around and help them find the best place for the ambush.

Eduardo smiled and told them of the perfect place. He also said he could raise about forty men. All he asked was a chance to ride into the capitol  to visit a friend who was holding something for him. The Major stood up and told Eduardo to follow him. They walked around to the livery where a tarp had been lashed over the cart Victor had driven. Four musketmen were guarding the cart. Roberto lifted the corner of the tarp and revealed two rectangular crates. Several smaller crates were packed tightly around them. 

“Forty-eight Baker rifles, eight crates of munitions, and four kegs of powder,” said Roberto. 

“But how?,” asked Eduardo. “How did you know?”

Rojas smiled and patted him on the back. “We are very careful to keep an eye on munitions, even ones stolen from the British,” Major Rojas said. “Anyone can start a revolution. Victory is more difficult. We plan to win this one and are taking no chances. Come. You and Victor may share our rooms. Get some rest. You leave at dawn.”

*****

Tuesday, 28 May, 1801

Early Tuesday morning, Eduardo led Captain Rojas and a small detachment of calvary to a ford in the river. It was still impassable, so they searched up and down the banks for a place to cross. After determining that it was not possible to cross to the O’Brien side of the river, Eduardo guided the men up into the foothills to the high camp. They were met by several Bryants who were working on the ambush site. The Captain and his lieutenant discussed the site. They approved of the location, but the camp was too high. The angle was too steep for muskets and field guns. Work on the camp stopped while they searched for a lower position.

Eduardo, meanwhile, went with Brandon and Robert Bryant to find an observation spot that commanded the road. They needed a way to spot Morales’ troops in time to spring the trap. They found an outcropping of rock that allowed them to see far down the road and also signal below them to the Captain’s troops.  Robert stayed on duty and Brandon went to arrange for others to take shifts. From this vantage point Eduardo could see the washed out bridge and the activity swarming around it. He climbed down to the high camp, tied four Baker rifles onto his saddle, filled his paniers with cartridges, and powder horns, and rode to the bridge with two of the officers who had been guarding the rifles.

By the time Eduardo and the officers reached the bridge the ferry was in place. Ronan and Luis were pulled across and the took the horses to William Bryant’s place. The men and rifles were pulled back across the river. The officers drew Pau, Big James, Little Jimmy, and Miguel aside and began training them on the rifles. Eduardo went to the house to find Maria, but ran into Pau first. Pau told him about the Spanish ship. Eduardo decided to go to Arena Amarilla to investigate. 

Eduardo quietly slid down next to Finn and scanned the beach. He recognized the ship and knew that its captain was a member of the Paris Society, however he couldn’t be sure that the captain was still in command.  Without a spyglass he couldn’t identify the man on the quarterdeck. He waited for a while as Finn pestered him with questions. 

He silenced Finn when he noticed that another group of men were boarding a longboat. The crew rowed the boat toward the shore and Eduardo concentrated on the Lieutenant steering the boat through the rocks. When the boat landed, Eduardo was certain he recognized the Lieutenant from the Society. He told Finn to stay hidden, then walked to officer. 

Finn relaxed when saw the two men embrace and greet each other warmly.   Eduardo waved for Finn to join them. “These men are from Major Rojas,” said Eduardo. “I will take the Lieutenant and the marines with me. You take these men to the safe house. They will protect the children. The others will guard the beach to prevent Morales from escaping or receiving reinforcements.” 

Maria

Maria’s task was to set up a sick bay in her office. Her dissection table and instruments would do double duty on the living. She assembled her supplies and made a list of additional materials she would like to have on hand. She decided to go to the bay and see if the ship’s surgeon had any of the supplies she needed.

She slipped out the side door to avoid the children who were being rounded up for their trip to the safe house. She felt a little guilty for not helping with the children. After all, she would be going right past the safe house. But she was preoccupied with thoughts about how quickly things had gotten out of hand. She was certain that she could have talked to Cupido and resolved the problems between them, but now they were caught up in events from the capitol and people would be killed. There was nothing she could do anymore. The men had reached for the guns and they would not listen any more. Instead of collecting specimens and working on her manuscript, she would be attending to wounds and watching people die. And after the battle, the soldiers would move on, but the Valenzuelas and the de la Vegas would be left to tend their wounded and bury their dead while living in sight of each other.

A little way past the empty safe house, Lemuel stepped out of the grass onto the path in front of Maria startling her. He was holding a curved iron blade about seven inches long. The blade had a socket for a handle that bent away from the blade at a twenty degree angle. It was covered in rust and had a rotted piece of wood extending about two inches from the socket. Lemuel held the blade tightly in his raised hand. He stepped toward Maria, who took a step backwards. Lemuel’s face was flush with excitement. Maria looked him in the eye and tried not to show fear.

“I was looking for you,” Lemuel said. “I wanted to show you this.”

“What is it?,” Maria asked. She struggled to keep her voice calm.

Lemuel reached into a pocket of coat and pulled out his battered copy of “The Lastoc of the Annumpi.” He handed her the book and said, “Page one hundred twenty-eight.  See the drawing?  I think this is a grapi.” 

Maria turned to page and saw a drawing of an Annumpi carrying a scythe-like tool with a blade remarkably similar to the one that Lemuel was holding. The book said the grapi was “the oddly contorted, razor-sharp crook of the Annumpi. The crook is angled so that the Annumpi can sweep the area under the spoltal to defend against mantriti attacks.”

“May I look a little more closely, Lemuel?,” Maria asked. 

“Of course,” he replied, placing the tool on a patch of gravel and stepping aside so she could come closer. Maria knelt down by the blade and placed the book next to it. While she compared the blade to the picture, Lemuel cut a reed and laid it next to the blade as if it were the handle extending about four feet from the blade. Maria had to admit the drawing and the blade were similar. 

“Where did you find this?,” she asked. 

“I’ll show you,” Lemuel said.

He left the path and made his way through the thickest part of the grass that Maria had ever seen. She followed him, all the time wishing she was wearing her work clothes instead of a dress. Lemuel very carefully parted the grass and helped her clamber over a section of broken ground. They came to a wet, swampy area that Lemuel skirted before following a path of large flat stones leading through the swamp. “I think someone put these stones here,” Lemuel said. “I’ve not seen stones like them anywhere else in the grass,” Maria agreed. 

The stones stopped at a open area about twenty-five yards across that rose slightly out of the swamp. In the center of the clearing was a further slight rise. The rise was flattened and about four feet higher than the clearing. The mound was about ten feet in diameter and shaped like a rounded rectangle.

“I found this place when I was looking for somewhere to a built a shelter,” said Lemuel. “I thought I could dig in to the center of the mound and cover the opening with reed thatch, but when I started digging I found this blade. Then I found bones, including some that I don’t think are human. I put everything back in the mound and replaced the dirt. Today I was finally strong enough to come here and dig out this blade. I think it is a grapi. I think this an Annumpi burial mound and it contains bones of spoltal. What other animal would the Annumpi bury with them?”

Maria looked from the grapi, she found herself accepting the name without even realizing it, to the mound, thenRose to Lemuel. “Lemuel,” she said, “I don’t know what to say. This is so much to consider. There's no time now to make a proper examination of this site, but I promise you that when things settle down, you and I will return to this place and see what is here. Is that alright with you?”

“It is,” he said and he extended his hand. They shook hands, then carefully made their way through the swamp. As they followed the path to the beach, the two flipped through the pages of the book looking for more descriptions of Annumpi life to inform their search.

The Lastoc of the Annumpi: "We Have Met the Annumpi" (Part 13)

Friday, 23 May 1801

For the next four days, the O’Briens, Bryants and their allies were busy shoring up their defenses and preparing their trap for General Morales. Repairs had been made to the out buildings and main house. A large camp was established about a half mile deep in the grass. The camp was supplied with food and ammunition. Caches were buried at various sites in case the defenders were forced to scatter. Miguel and his family built a small forge in a clearing, in case the main forge was destroyed. 

Their main concern was the bridge over the swollen river. Heavy storm runoff from the mountains showed no sign of letting up. Pau did not have any beams long enough or heavy enough to span the flood. Even if they had the materials, Pau and Maria were no longer certain that rebuilding the bridge was a good idea. What if the silk stockings used the bridge to attack them? Cupido and his silk-stockinged gentleman thugs were horsemen. A dozen horsemen sweeping over the bridge could wreak havoc. After much discussion, they decided that if they could get enough heavy rope and if they could build a three or four rafts, they could create a floating bridge or a pulley system to maneuver a raft quickly from one side to the other.

Since Fergus had been fired on, the family took increased precautions. Two people were stationed at windows on either end of the attic. One window looked out across the river and the Capital road that paralleled it. From this window one could watch the intersecting road that was the most likely route that anyone coming from the de la Vega ranch would take. The other window, which was in Lemuel’s room, commanded the southern exposure. From it, Lemuel could see a loop in the river that in normal times was shallow enough to ford. The ford would be a dangerous place to cross until the flood subsided, but de la Vega might chance it, so Lemuel kept a vigilant watch.

Lemuel’s health had greatly improved under the care of Maria and the regular meals overseen by Mrs. O’Brien. Maria had examined his wounds and found no sign of infection. His injuries from the badger were not as bad as she had feared. She reminded Lemuel that he was incredibly lucky that the badger had partially sedated. Lemuel’s wounded shoulder was beginning to knit, but it would take quite a while before they would know the extent of the permanent damage. Maria had not told anyone at the time, but she had been afraid that he might lose the arm.

Every since his first meal with the family, Lemuel had asked to join them at every meal. He had needed assistance the first few days, but he could now manage the stairs with the help of a stout cane lent him by Don Hernando. On level ground, Lemuel could make slow and steady progress. 

Lemuel was eager to do whatever he could to help. His strength was still limited, but his mind grew sharper everyday. At first, he had to force himself to endure the noise and congestion of the busy house. Now he was beginning to look forward to the activity. He still tended to stay out of the way, but when he could help, he would speak up and join in. The O’Briens had grown accustomed to him, although Maria was still not quite convinced.

******

Friday night, before heading back to house for dinner, Pau and Anthony went to the camp to check on the progress that Pau’s boys had made. The entrances to the paths through the grass were carefully placed so that they could not be seen from the road. This entrance was the one that would be used to reach the river crossing point. The men entered the barn and crossed over the the open center to a stall filled with old farming equipment. In single file, they skirted the rusted pile of broken tools and found the loosened boards in the rear of the stall. They pulled the boards inward and squeezed through. They now had about ten yards of open ground to cover to enter the grass. The bulk of the barn completely obscured this open ground from the river.

Once they entered the grass, they had to wade through the vegetation until the path began about twenty yards in. They could then walk briskly down a path wide enough for people to walk two abreast. When they approached the campsite, they heard unexpected noises. The boys, and everyone for that matter, had been instructed by work as quietly as possible. They could hear loud, unfamiliar voices coming from the camp. As they stopped to listen, they primed the pistols they been carrying since Fergus was shot at. When they heard horses, Pau and Anthony unslung their muskets. They silently made their way down the path, but stayed close to the edge in case they had to dive into the grass for cover.

At the camp, there were two horses tethered to a tree branch. They were large, powerful horses, but their saddles were functional and well worn. They were free of the silverwork favored by the silk stockings. Ronan and Finn were lying face down in the dirt.  A man dressed in brown wool pants, a rough cotton shirt, and a leather jacket was sitting on Finn while forcing Ronan down by twisting his arm behind his back. The man who was pinning the two O’Briens to the ground was laughing at Victor who was suspended a foot in the air by the largest man Pau had ever seen. The man’s shoulders and chest were so wide that the burly Victor looked like a scrawny adolescent  in comparison. His thick arms wrapped around Victor, pinning his arms to his side.

The huge man tossed his head back and laughed. His thick silvered hair hung down to his shoulders. “What did I tell you, Jimmy?,” he called to his partner. “The O’Briens couldn’t guard a doll house.”

Before Jimmy could answer, the big man doubled up and collapsed forward onto Victor. Jimmy barely had time to make out the figure that appeared behind the falling giant, when he was knocked to the dirt by a well aimed kick to his side. Anthony stepped over Pau’s boys and rolled his victim over so he could see his face. “Oh Jesus, Pau. It’s Big James and this must be Little Jimmy,” Antony called to Pau.

“Just like the damn Bryants to start celebrating before the fight's over,” Pau said reaching down to help Big James to his feet. Victor was checking if all his parts still worked before attempting to stand.

Big James took Pau's proffered hand and allowed Pau to pull him up.  “Did you have to go after my kidney?," Big James asked. "I’ll be pissing blood for a week.”

“I’m sure you’ll cauterize the wound before dark, you old reprobate,” said Pau. “And will you two get off my boys.”

Anthony and Little Jimmy had taken a seat on Ronan and Finn to watch the entertainment. “You mean these mighty warriors are your sons, Pau?  Had I know that I would’ve been frightened before we thumped them.”

The boys staggered to their feet, and soon all six men were eyeing each other. Pau pointed to his sons, and said, “This is Victor, Ronan, and Finn, my sons.” Gesturing to the newcomers, he said, “This is Big James and his son, Little Jimmy. Big James is your Grandmother’s little brother, although he’s more a walking natural disaster. And this one that helped me whip you two idiots is Anthony, your nephew Jimmy’s boy. “ 

“I thought you looked familiar, son,” said Big James. “Now why is it that your father didn’t name you Jimmy? He’s named after me, you know.’

“Perhaps he felt that you used the name up,” said Anthony.

“Likely. Likely,” said Big James, laughing loudly. “Though I’ve left a bit for Little Jimmy here.” 

“Alright,” said Pau, “We’d better be getting back. If mother finds out we’ve be gabbing out here when I should have brought you to her, she’ll tan my hide.” The group made their way along the winding paths to the entrance behind the big house. Pau’s boys took the horses to the barn and Pau led the Byants to an unexpected family reunion.

***************

After everyone had been fed and the kitchen restored to order, Mrs. O’Brien sat down on a heavy rocker on the small rear porch and smoked a clay pipe. She loved her family, but a quiet smoke on a cool evening was an opportunity not to be missed. When she heard tentative footsteps behind her, she didn’t even have to turn around. “Evening, Maria, Ethna. I’ve been expecting you. If one you would bring me a brandy, I think it’s time we talked about the Annumpi.” A hand immediately delivered a brandy. 
“Well, isn’t that pleasant. Someone’s been thinking.” She sipped the brandy and sighed deeply. “Ethna, would you see if Mr. Hawkins would care to join us. Ethna, why don’t you get Margaret, Fiona, and Finn, as well. And leave the poor boy be, please.”

It took about fifteen minutes for the everyone to gather and get settled. Ethna brought kitchen chairs out onto the back porch for Maria, Lemuel, and herself. The others sat with their backs against the house or plopped on the steps. Finn lay nearby in the grass where he could keep an eye on Ethna who had been making his life miserable all evening. Ronan had wandered over and joined his brother. The group waited in silence while Mrs. O’Brien decided how to begin.

“You can’t imagine my surprise when heard Mr. Hawkins here talk about the Annumpi. He actually did more than that, he tried to live like one. I couldn’t understand why a boy from England or his father would have even heard of the Annumpi. And then he said that they had read that piece of claptrap that that useless, slack bellied, addled brained, moralistic blockhead Daniel Defoe spewed out. That man couldn’t see a mouse whiddle without writing a pamphlet about it. If a cat chased the mouse, he’d have a book, and if a dog chased the cat he’d have a sequel.”

Lemuel raised his hand timidly, and asked, “Do you mean Daniel DeFoe, the man who wrote ‘Robinson Crusoe’ ?”

“I hope there’s only the one. Drank a lot, ink all over his cuffs, huge wig that looked like he had a sheep’s bottom stuck on his head?” 

Lemuel nodded.

“It seems that Mr. DeFoe couldn’t imagine what to write after ‘Robinson Crusoe.’ He didn’t stop writing, but even he was getting tired of his all those pamphlets and the constant moralizing. He needed an adventure story to wrap around his lay preaching or he was going to be hard up to make a living. So he thought, foreign location, innocents persecuted, exotic people, some attacks on the Spanish and Papists, fill in the slow places with plodding Protestant theology and illustrations of the English as God’s gift to the lesser races, and there you have it. Sales surge, income soars, a new wig or two, and maybe even a small country place as a gift from an aristocratic admirer.”

“Now I have can respect any man who has hustles to earn his living. It’s been a long time since we Bryants and O’Briens could laze about all day. But it’s not right to make things up and pass them off as the truth. There’s a name for that kind of person. If father where here he’d say, ‘Protestants,’ and I think that’s a wee bit harsh, though there’s something to it. No, I was thinking of mountebank, but the two do tend to overlap now that I think on it.”

“To return to me point, Defoe needed a story. He went his to coffee house to see if he could find some help without revealing his intentions. A writer will steal a plot faster than a cat will steal a piece of chicken. It just so happened that an English merchant captain was in the coffee house and DeFoe struck up a conversation with him. The captain had just returned from New Spain. DeFoe fed him cup after cup of coffee and listened to his tales without hearing anything that he could use. And then it happened. He heard the scene he built “the Lastoc of the Annumpi “ around. 

“The captain’s story was true, that’s the sad part. DeFoe turned it into a novel, and wrote it so badly, so turgidly, that many an innocent reader couldn’t tell if it were a novel or, what’s the word, Maria?”

“Ethnography,” Maria chipped in quickly.

“That’s it. So DeFoe added things that were true, made other things up,called it a novel so people would think he made it all up, and many people thought the whole thing was true anyway.” 

“Take the Annumpi,” said Mrs. O’Brien. Maria, and Lemuel exchanged a glance, part challenge, part apology. “DeFoe would have us think that there were these people living around here named the Annumpi. He tells us how the dressed, what they ate, and what they looked like. He writes about this thing called a spoltal and nobody has any idea what he’s talking about. When I was girl all this was often debated. I heard people say that spoltal were hairy dwarfs. Others claimed they were ugly dogs.  Still others said they were a cross between a marmoset and and eagle, but that last one was from cousin Nemo, so it didn’t carry much weight.”

“What I do know about the Annumpi is this. When the Spanish first reached the grass, the saw that the people here were poor. There was no gold in sight. The people in the mountains had so much gold, they made golden booties lined in wool for their dogs. So, being practical men, the Spanish slaughtered the mountain people, seized their mines, and send slaves from other areas to work them.”

“The Spanish tried to get the people from the grassland to work the mines, but they refused. They refused to even speak to the Spanish. The Spaniards didn’t even know what to call the people, so the called them “la gente de la pampas.” The Spanish used their whole bag of tricks on the grasslanders, but they simply would not work in the mines. Meanwhile the grasslanders retreated deeper into the grass. When the Spanish would march into the grass, they would rarely find anyone, but they’d leave with fewer troops than went in.”

“Eventually the Spanish decided that enough was enough. They hadn’t come all the way across the Atlantic to be made fools of by natives. They threatened to burn the grass, if the grasslanders didn’t submit. One man walked out of the grass. He had learned a bit of Spanish and said that he spoke for the people. He told the Spanish that the people had fled to the coast and had gone where the Spanish would never find them. He asked the Spanish not to burn the grass, as it had been their home for many generations. He said that it was no value to the Spaniards, and asked them not do destroy it.”

“The soldiers seized him and knocked him to his knees. He was beaten and questioned, but he said no more. The Spaniards finally agreed that they would not burn the grass if he told them the name of his people. It galled the Spaniards that even this fact had been withheld from them. He considered this and the said, “Annumpi.” Of course, he was killed and the grass was burned.” 

“The Spanish were convinced that the people were still in the grass and had tried to deceive them. When the fires finally burned themselves out, the Spanish searched through the countless acres of burned land. They were looking for bodies, as well as for the gold and silver that the Spanish were convinced was hidden in the grass. They found nothing.”

“Many years later, the grass had returned and the Spanish still avoided it. When fevers or other illness crept over the land, the Spanish would say it was the breath of the Annumpi. When the O’Briens and the Bryants came here, the Spanish allowed us to live between the river and the grassland. They wanted us to be a buffer between the ghosts of the Annumpi and themselves.”

“Imagine our people’s surprise when they met people who were living in the grass. The people had watched us until they were certain that we were not Spaniards. One of their people had spent so much time watching us she could speak enough English that we could talk with her.”

“We had heard about the Annumpi from the Spanish and we asked her if she was one. She laughed and waved our people closer. “I am Annumpi,” she said pointing at herself. Then she pointed at the O’Briens and Bryants gathered around her and said, “You are Annumpi.” Our people were confused. They didn’t understand. The women seemed to be enjoying the confusion, but then she took pity on the us. “We are both Annumpi,” she repeated. “Annumpi means ‘We have no home.’ ” 

Mrs. O’Brien stopped to finish her brandy. She out her pipe to her lips and the spell was broken. Maria was the first to speak. “When did take place?,” she asked. 

“My Grandfather was there. He was a young boy. The Annumpi was Miguel’s great-grandmother.”

“Where did they go when they fled the Spanish?,” asked Ethna.

“Some hid in the caves above Arena Amarilla, but most went to the small islands off the coast.”

Lemuel rose from his chair and walked painfully over to Mrs. O’Brien. He rested his hand on the arm of her rocker for support and then leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. Wiping a tear from his eye, he turned away and walked into the house. Maria rose to follow him, but Ethna reached out and grasped her wrist. Maria stood there until the door closed behind Lemuel, then she shook off Ethna’s grip and walked away from the house until she could no longer be seen from the porch.

**********

The younger folks had wandered away. Ethna waited until Lemuel had time to make it through kitchen, then she went in and poured another brandy  for grandmother. When she returned to the porch her grandmother was sitting alone. She had relit her pipe and was gently rocking. Ethna pulled Lemuel’s chair closer and sat by her grandmother. Neither said a word. Every now and then a voice from inside the house would be heard or a night bird’s song would cry out. The regular squeak of the rocking chair had just about eased Ethna to sleep when a deep bellow nearly knocked her out of her chair. 

“Old woman, have you seen Bridget Bryant, me big sister?,” roared Big James as the stepped out of the darkness. 

“Good Lord. Is that Big James? Surely some kind soul shot that heap of trouble a long time ago,” answered Mrs. O’Brien.

“Many have tried, but I know the trick of making them miss,” said Big James. In two strides he was on the porch and over to Mrs. O’Brien. She was rising to meet him when he scooped her up and lifted her out of the chair. He gave a hug only a little looser than the one he gave Victor. 

“Put me down, you eejit,” she cried, smacking him on his broad back.

“What a skinny old lady you’ve become,” he said, lowering her into her rocker.

“You ate so much food when we were little, all our stomachs shrunk.”

“Little Jimmy, come here. Meet your Aunt Bridget.”

Little Jimmy stepped forward. “Come a little closer boy,” Mrs. O’Brien said. When he did, Mrs. O’Brien could see that her nephew was about two inches taller than her father, but he must have wwighed fifty pounds less.

“It looks like you da’s still eating more than his share.”

Little Jimmy blushed. “He thin, but he’s made of wire, he is,” said Big James rising in defense of his quiet son. “He whipped two of Pau here’s boys on his own.” Little Jimmy blushed again. He also knew that he would have to be alert around Ronan and Finn. They were pretty tired of being the butt of the joke.

Pau climbed onto the porch and motioned Big James into the empty chair. Little Jimmy sat on the step. Pau motioned to his boys and the three of them went inside. Soon Pau returned with a chair and the boys carried glasses and a bottle. Ronan poured drinks and they settled in.

“Where’d you appear from James?,” asked Mrs. O’Brien.

“Me and me boy just came back from America,” he said.

“Thanks right. You were in Philadelphia, must have been, oh, twenty years ago,” said Mrs. O’Brien.

“More like twenty-five,” said Big Jim. “It was when I lost Mary and the baby to the flu.” 

“That’s right, the pour souls. We lost so many that year.”

“I didn’t know that, as I left when my Mary died. I couldn’t see staying.”

“Well, tell us, James, what have you done with yourself? And how did you come by this fine lad?,” ask Pau setting the bottle by Big James. Everyone settled in. Big James didn’t seem the kind to pass up the opportunity to tell a tale. 

Big James filled his glass before he began. “I never wanted to stay in Philadelphia, which is good thing, as I had to leave in a hurry. I got there just before the colonists started shooting at the British. I wasn’t of the boat an hour before I saw this man being chased by three Red Coats. I wasn’t in a curious mood, or a generous mood, but since Mary died I didn’t care what happened to me, so I laid into the three Brits. One died and the others had some parts that didn’t work quite right anymore.” 

“Some of the American’s friends dragged me away and hid me in a basement. They wanted to know why I helped their friend and I told them I didn’t know you needed a reason to thump Red Coats. Well, they were determined to help me, and before I knew it I was in the Appalachian Mountains with a bunch of Donegal lads. We never set foot off those mountains the rest of the war, but we damn sure made certain the Brits had to take the long way around the mountain.”

“During the war, I married one of the fellow’s sisters, and she had Little Jimmy here. She was a Carr from Killybegs. Maddie was her name. She had a hard time during the war, as all the women did. The Brits went after them to get to us. But after they hurt some of the women, we tracked down the Red Coats and managed to convince them that they were better off playing by the rules.”

“After the war, me, Maddie, and Little Jimmy headed west through the Cumberland Gap. We met up with Daniel Boone, you might have heard of him.What a character. Could talk his way out of anything.  Seems he married a cousin of ours. Him and me fought Indians all the way to Detroit and back.”

“You wouldn’t believe the land there, Bridget. There’s no end to it and it’s nearly as green as Itreland. And after the war, there wasn’t a Brit in sight. The government gave me some land for my service, but with all that other land out West, I kept thinking there’d be better land just a little further on. Besides, I have to admit, I’m just not a farmer. I was a sheriff for a while in the Western Reserve, but that was hard on Maddie and Little Jimmy. I’d be gone for weeks, sometimes months at a time.” 

“And then Maddie got sick, so I took her to her sister’s place near Fort Pitt in western Pennsylvania. They had doctors there, but it was too late to do anything. About a year ago, we laid her to rest. Then the boy and me decided it was time to come home. We heard about the flood, so we hired a fishing boat to drop us of on the Arena Amarilla, and here we are.”

Mrs. O’Brien caught Big James up on the births, deaths, and marriages that  had taken place in the quarter century since he’d left. Pau told him about the situation with Morales and de la Vega. When Pau was talking, all hos joviality left the big man and a seriousness that was deeply hidden surfaced. Big James began asking questions that Pau hadn’t thought about. The two men walked to the river were the bridge had been and were Pau still planned to cross the river. 

“See those rocks over there?,” said Big Jim. 

Pau did. He’d seen them his whole life. 

“The way a soldier sees them is that two or three men firing from behind those rocks could keep you pinned down across the river. The rest of the plan is pretty good. But you know that Morales is going to send scouts into the mountains to make sure the road is clear.” Pau hadn’t thought of that.

“Here’s what we’ll do,” said Big James. “We’re going to convince the scouts that there’s fever in the mine. Half the time there is anyway, the way the Spanish work those slaves. That’ll keep them from taking a good look and spotting you high base.”

“What if we they don’t fall for it?,” Pau asked?

“Then me and the Bryant’s will kill them,” said Big Jim. 

“And the men behind the rocks?,” asked Pau.

“I’d already planned on killing them. It’s like this Pau, when you start planning to aim guns at soldiers, you better be ready to use your guns. This is a war your talking about, son. You need some soldiers.” 

Big Jim put his empty glass on the porch and stretched. “It’s been a long day, folks. Tomorrow Little Jim and me have to find a way across the river to get to the Bryant side of the river,” said Big James. He grinned at Pau and said,”You got big ideas, Pau. Good thing my boy and me came back.”

The Lastoc of the Annumpi: Surveying the Damage (Part 12)

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.”