Chapter 69: Moro
I hadn’t yet received any letter from Pedro when we decided to set off early the next morning. It would not be surprising for him to face resistance in Sta. Cruz. The town, being distant from Boac and also having its share of very wealthy principales, would not readily submit to a fledgling governor.
Still, he could have sent a report. Perhaps he did not want to send anyone back until he had succeeded.
But I was starting to get worried. We had no news of him for five days already. And even if he was safe, to have no result for that long must mean he might need my personal help.
The coastal road continued toward Sta. Cruz, but to travel it on foot would take six to eight hours, and with our number, we might be delayed. Not to mention that if the occasional downpour arrived, the dirt road would become mud and twice as hard to navigate.
It was the gobernadorcillo who advised us to take the sea route. He had some of his people escort us toward the coastal barrio of Balanacan.
I had a sizeable retinue with me. I took ten men from the escolta and then a platoon of 25 recruits, totaling 35. I did not need that many to secure my safety in the relative quiet of Marinduque. I could scare the local highwaymen even with just a single rifle.
And my 35-man company was not there to scare off bandits but to give substance to my title as an appointed general of the republic. It had already worked its wonder in Mogpog.
Three bancas were arranged to transport us. Two of them were meant to contain the bulk of my company, fifteen each. The last boat would only contain six, including me.
"Heneral!"
A voice rang out in the air, attracting the attention of everyone in the cove, just as I was about to climb the gangway toward the boat. Emerging out of the small path that led to the sands from the coconuts was the son of Capitan Roque, the cadet Tomas Roque, on the back of a horse.
The young man rode toward me and then produced a piece of folded paper from one of his chest pockets.