Chapter 126: Blame
"I swear your ear did not look like that when I last saw you," I remarked, thoughtfully.
I sat comfortably on a tree stump in one of the sheds at the edge of the población. From where I was, I could see the cogon fields—peaceful now, still beneath the moonlight. The town had returned to its usual nightly hush, its disturbers either dead, captured, or fled.
Their commander knelt before me.
He was one of those who had scrambled for the boats after their assault collapsed in chaos. Eduardo, ever alert, had sprung awake at the first gunshots, boarded the Garay warship moored at the beach, and gave chase just in time.
The small fishing vessels that carried the attackers upriver were no match for the Moro swivel cannons. The four-pounder hadn’t even been used—it would have been overkill.
Capitan Gabriel Sadiwa was among the unlucky few who survived. Or perhaps, the lucky few—depending on how one viewed fate. "Bloodied" was putting it mildly. He had lost fingers on his right hand, most of his right ear, and sustained burns across the left side of his body and face.
He had fancied himself a Heneral. On the charred remains of his white uniform were shoulder patches bearing a crude golden star—an imitation of my own bars. The soldiers had taken his pistol and handed it to Dimalanta, his saber to Lorenzo, his fine boots to Eduardo. As for the battered but functional brass spyglass, I had taken the liberty of placing it in my own satchel for safekeeping.
He was soaked to the bone, shivering where he knelt in the dirt. I couldn’t tell whether he trembled from the cold or from fear. Likely both.
"I hope you’re not right-handed," I said, casually. "Otherwise, you won’t be able to write your last letter to your loved ones."
A few soldiers chuckled.
"Meeh... mee... mercy... Heneral..." Gabriel Sadiwa stammered, his teeth clattering with every syllable.