Chapter 75: Cruel
The very next day after the meeting, the people of Sta. Cruz gathered to witness a public execution. It was early in the morning—just bright enough to not be dim. Still, the townsfolk responded in force, eager to witness what would be a first in their town.
Children were perched atop their parents’ shoulders, young men swam through the crowd to get a better view, and vendors took advantage of the event, selling sweets and rice cakes. Even the young women of the principalia attended, escorted by their servants and hiding their faces behind unfurled embroidered fans.
Where we set up would have been an odd choice were it a regular gathering. We were at the far end of the town plaza, away from the presidencia municipal, near the uglier portion of the town. Behind me stood an abandoned stone structure—the remains of a former Spanish government building.
The gobernadorcillo and the principales had taken refuge under the shade of a nearby mabolo tree.
I wasn’t overly fond of the fact that women and children were in the audience, and how the event was being treated like casual fanfare. But it would serve my purpose all the same.
I nodded to Pedro, who stood not far from me, near the front ranks of the crowd.
"¡Silencio! ¡Silencio!" Capitan Madrigal suddenly shouted, raising a fist at the crowd. The soldiers forming a human barricade repeated the command. Slowly, conversations died down, and heads turned in our direction.
The presidencia municipal lacked a balcony. Nor was there a stage in the plaza for speeches.
So, once again, I climbed onto the back of my horse and used it as a platform—one I could move at will.
I nudged my horse forward until I was inches away from the soldiers. I studied every anticipating face as I rode along.
"Good people of Boac!" I began. "Your peace—your way of life—is being threatened. When we pushed out the Spaniards, we thought we were finally free of foreigners. That at last, we needn’t pay tribute or swear loyalty to a faraway king."